In Love with a Saint
by DeadlyxNightshade
Summary: Doc had a niece and she experienced the events that occurred in BS and BSII. These are her accounts of life at McGinty’s and her relationship with Connor and Murphy MacManus.
1. Chapter 1 Eighteen

**In Love with a Saint**

Written by: DeadlyxNightshade

Rated: M

Special Note: I do not own anything related to _The Boondock Saints_ or its sequel.

Summary: Doc had a niece and she experienced the events that occurred in _BS _and _BSII._ These are her accounts of life at McGinty's and her relationship with Connor and Murphy MacManus.

Reviews much appreciated.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Prologue: My Account**

I hate diaries and journals. So I will merely label this as my Account.

It's important that I document what has happened. And what will continue to happen. Some day someone will read this and they will know the truth. And they can share that truth. And the day will come when people will realize and understand what these men were trying to do.

First, I must give some details about myself.

At age ten my mother sent me to live with my uncle. She and my father were having marital issues. The issue was me. My dad never wanted a child and somehow my existence in the world led him to cheat on my mom several times. My mom loved my dad – probably more than me – thus I was shipped off from San Francisco to live in the dingy-upstairs of an Irish bar.

Dad had money so he made a separate savings account for me. He would put a certain amount of dollars in each month. The account would be fully open to me on the day of my eighteenth birthday. Not wanting me to suffer an "unprivileged" life Mom had Dad give my uncle money to fix up the apartment above the bar and to furnish the place properly.

People called my uncle "Doc" so I became accustomed to calling him that. My first encounter with him was terrifying. My mom came with me to settle me in. It was the first time I had ever met the man. He seemed scared of me too somehow. He obviously worked in a bar so he probably didn't get the chance to be around children much. His turrets were a new concept for me – the man would spurt out "fuck" and "ass" and other things randomly. At first I thought he was directing those words at me, but I soon learned that he could not help it.

He loved me the moment he met me (he told me this later on my first birthday we would share together). I loved him too.

Doc had a good heart. He had no problem taking me into his home. The apartment above his business had a large living room space. Doc's bedroom was on one side of the apartment while my room was set up on the other. There was one bathroom upstairs but Doc started to use the bar bathrooms in order to give me more privacy.

I'm still surprised my parents thought this would be a good life for me. Boston was a good city but our particular area was rough. Once Mom had gone back to California, Doc filled me in on the "horrors" of Boston. He wanted me to be scared. But I became interested. I was forced to watch _The Godfather_ with him – it was his way of showing me the reality of the mafia – but it actually became my favorite film. Doc didn't lose hope in his attempt to protect me from the big bad world.

I went to a public school that was a couple of blocks away. Walking distance. But Doc always walked me to school. Despite the looks that parents would give when he randomly yelled "Fuck!" Doc was always there in the morning to walk me to school and he was always there that afternoon to walk me back home. Somehow I became more attached to a man I had known for a few months than my own parents.

(Note: My parents and I kept in touch through phone calls and e-mails. The e-mails stopped first.)

It was in preparations for my eleventh birthday when I met the twins… Doc was putting up balloons and streamers with help from friends he had known for years in Boston. I had a few close school friends – but I considered the bar and the people who came to visit my family. I was sitting on a stool licking a lollipop when two men entered. They approached Doc first and introduced themselves: "Connor and Murphy MacManus." They were twenty-years-old and apparently fresh off the boat from Ireland. The young men had just settled into a building not far from the bar. "We were out lookin' for a drink," one said. It was Connor. I didn't believe it at first when I overheard that they were twins. Doc made friends instantly with them and introduced the guys to everyone. I was last for introductions.

Connor kissed my hand while the other one, Murphy, bent down and winked at me. He asked politely if it would be okay if he kissed me on the cheek. "Eleven's a good age, little lass."

I corrected him with, "Please don't call me that. 'Little lass' sounds like 'Little ass'…"

The twins laughed at me. But I laughed with them.

And I let Murphy kiss me on the cheek.

They were new to town obviously, but so was I. They became my friends and a part of the bar.

Within a year I was savvy with the bar's business. Doc didn't want me handling alcohol but he didn't mind me delivering drinks. Doc said I was the first McGinty's waitress.

Connor and Murphy were always around. They showed up every day on the weekend and a couple of days out of the week.

Doc was a good man, like I said, and such a man found himself responsible to care for his alcoholic-friends. Sometimes Doc had to leave for a night or two so Connor and/or Murphy would have to play baby-sitters. Connor and Murphy tried to talk to me about God and Catholicism a few times. I was a good listener but I always told them I didn't care for religion. When asked why, I would respond with, "My real dad doesn't love me. Why would a mythical, all-powerful being care?" They would comfort me. It worked. Most of the time.

I grew up in McGinty's. I grew up knowing the men that would soon be infamously known as Boston's "Saints."

I loved them both. I made what could be called a "mistake" by falling in love with one…

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Chapter One: Eighteen**

_Boston, Massachusetts. November 2, 1998._

Autumn was my favorite season. It's not that I didn't care for summer, but the heat in Boston was sometimes too tough to handle. The trees transformed into a mixture of reds and oranges. The air was crisp and cold, just the way I liked it. It was getting close to November sixth – my birthday – and I was getting pretty excited about becoming an official, legal adult. My friends thought that a tattoo would be the best way to settle it. But nothing could beat a night at McGinty's.

I was at a coffee shop with a few girl friends. They were chatting about the Winter Ball in December. Not caring for an event that was more than a month away, I was losing myself in a trance. My eyes carefully noted the cool breeze flowing in between the branches. The trees seemed to be welcoming autumn as much as I was. The wind and leaves hugged one another as if they had not seen each other in years. There were only a few trees left on Main Street but luckily someone had spared them in their construction of an outlet. I drank my hot cocoa slowly (I hated coffee) and heard the annoying bickering of the girls – "Well I wanted to wear the blue dress" or "It was my idea first to wear the strapless, white gown." I didn't want to be there. I wanted to go to the park and just lie in the grass.

Eric Beacon came strolling down the sidewalk. Suddenly the girls were all transfixed on him. The tall eighteen-year-old approached us with a wide grin. His hair was blowing against the wind. The dark-haired boy sat with us, next to me, and kissed me on the cheek. One of the girls, Madison, was obviously jealous of my boyfriend's open affection. I didn't share a word with Eric at first. He exchanged a few pleasantries with my friends. When his attention was on me he asked, "Plans tonight?"

"I need to finish up the paper for Simpson."

"Amy…" Eric sighed. "You've been losing yourself in schoolwork for a week now. It's time to calm down."

"Exactly," Cassidy, my tall blonde friend responded, "we know you're anxious about hearing back from Northwestern. You'll get in! Now come out with us tonight! Brianna's cousin can get us into that new club downtown."

"Sorry loves," I said. I began to rise from my cold chair and grabbed my school bad. "I still have to keep up my grades. But I have to go now. See you guys tomorrow – and be careful tonight."

My friends laughed at me as I scolded them. They were the types who would inevitably regret any stupid decision they made.

"Call me tonight?" Eric whispered as he rose to hug me.

"After my paper," I promised. I kissed him on the lips, trying not to embarrass him in front of the girls.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The best part of my day was walking into McGinty's and expecting the whole lot to be there. Even at five o'clock they were all there preparing for the "heavy" drinking that would come later in the evening.

I stepped inside and awaited the howls.

Most of the guys from the bar raised their half-filled beers to me. They cheered to me and to my day. I always felt myself blushing when they did that. A few of the men's' wives were there too, which only meant that someone (or more) would be getting slapped tonight.

But my eyes went to the three men that I always looked forward to seeing.

Doc was wearing the gray button-up I had purchased for him during the summer. He waved at me and started to fix me up a Coke from behind the counter.

Down the row of men by the bar, I found Connor and Murphy MacManus ready to welcome me with open arms.

I always went to Connor first. He had a special way of hugging me. The beautiful dirty-blonde Irishman lifted me up from the ground, spun me, then would crack my back.

"Hullo dear Amy," Connor smiled. He was attired in the usual plain black T-shirt and worn jeans. "How was your day ta'day?"

"Long," I muttered.

It was Murphy's turn. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt. It was tight around his pecs and abs and I couldn't help but try and turn my eyes away so he wouldn't see me blush. I focused on the beauty mark on his face. Those blue eyes were calling to me…

He scooped me up in his arms the same way Connor did. But when I was able to reach his shoulders and bury my face into his neck, I could always feel Murphy placing a kiss on my cheek. When my feet were safely back on the floor, I took my usual position, sitting on Murphy's right thigh and joining in on whatever conversation was being held.

"So someone's havin' a birthday comin' up," Murphy announced. I rolled my eyes at him. "It's unfortunate… because I can't seem to rememb'a who it is that's turnin' eighteen…"

"Ooo could it be me?" I replied sarcastically.

"Right ye are Little Ass," Connor joked. I tried to smack him but Murphy held me back. His arms wrapped around me and there was no escape from his grasp. But I didn't mind.

"B-b-boys," Doc muttered, "for once ya need to treat the girl li-li-like an ad-d-d-adult."

"She's not an adult yet, Fuckass," Rocco said from down the bar. The long-haired (mafia) package boy held a drink to me. "But in a couple of days she's LEGAL!"

Some of the men joked and crooned cat-calls toward me. Doc, being his over-protective-self, threw ice at the group.

I remained amongst the group in silence. Everyone was deep in conversation – nothing actually important – but there were mostly jokes and insults thrown around.

Not realizing it, I had removed myself from Murphy's lap and made my way upstairs.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

I was sitting at the edge of me bed. My eyes were glued to the brochure of Northwestern I had nailed to the wall in front of me. The purple background reminded me of autumn. I wondered what Northwestern was like in the fall.

The footsteps towards my room didn't remove my focus.

Murphy was leaning against the doorframe of my room.

"Ye alright, love?"

I turned to stare at the man that I was too embarrassed to tell that I had had a crush on him since I met him.

"Just a lot on my mind." I realized I hadn't said much downstairs. Or at all, today. My mind did seem to be jumping around, however my main focus was on the intangible university.

Murphy did a motion that I was used to – he held his fist to his face, nudged his nose with his thumb, and tensed up. He knelt down to me and placed his hands in mind. His eyes had noted what I had been staring at.

"You're going ta get in," he reassured. Murphy squeezed me hand. "You're too brilliant and wonderful for them not ta have ya."

"Everyone keeps telling me the same thing…" I whispered. I suddenly became aware that I was fighting against very-anxious-tears. "All my friends are just worried about Winter Ball, Prom, the post-Graduation partying. All I can think about is that stupid letter coming in the mail – if it ever comes in – and I just-"

A soft sound came from his mouth. His "cooing" was meant to calm me down. Tears were burning in my eyes and they longed for escape, but I didn't want Murphy to see me cry.

"Amy…" Murphy whispered gently. "You are the most amazing girl I've met ya know. Even my oh-so-perfect mother would agree." He laughed. "I have the upmost faith in you. It's goin' ta be alright."

I was soon sliding off my bed to sit on the floor with Murphy. His arms wrapped around me and I felt his lips meet my neck.

"Want ta talk more about it?" Murphy asked.

I mouthed "No" since words couldn't come from my mouth at the moment.

Murphy nodded in understanding. I completely forgot I was wrapped up in his arms. My face soon became wet with the tears streaming down my face. The sleeve of Murphy's shirt was used to wipe my face gently.

It was this moment that I knew I was in love with him.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The sixth of November came and went. I celebrated my birthday with friends and boyfriend. The party seemed unnecessary; Eric and my friend Lisa had joined forces in renting out a room in a community center. It looked as if my whole high school had received an invitation. I had spent the evening talking to different groups of friends, talking about plans after high school, and praying that Eric would notice my "sick" appearance and take me home early.

I seemed to zone out so much that the party was done with very quickly. Eric loaded the gifts people had left for me into his truck. He said he would wait until the weekend to bring them to McGinty's as to not have them stolen. Eric didn't care for Boston or its crime. He told me, "I want you to actually keep your gifts, so I'll drop them off this weekend and you can open them then." His college plans were taking him to Illinois too for he had already received his acceptance letter from Loyola.

Eric kissed me goodnight and I watched him drive away with my birthday gifts in the back.

A sigh of relief revealed itself. I stepped inside the bar and could feel the wave of "Happy birthday"s hitting me hard.

I was hugged and grabbed and literally passed around the room. The men who had watched me grow up kissed me on the cheek and handed me envelopes. When I was given to Rocco, the man teased Doc by pretending he was going to kiss me on the lips, but his unrealistic plan was thwarted when Connor playfully kicked him in the leg. Rocco lost his footing and fell on the bar floor trying to take Connor down with him.

Connor gave me the best birthday hug in the world. It was the first time this evening that I had actually felt a real hug.

The twenty-seven-year-old held me at the waist and called out, "Birthday girl's here! Everyone drink up!"

I was cheered too and heard the clanking of beer bottles in the background.

Murphy looked different to me tonight. Duh, it was because I was in love with the man. He was extremely sexy in my eyes and I couldn't tear away my gaze. I started to have dirty thoughts even when Murphy approached me to kiss me on the area beside my mouth. Oh, how I had longed to feel the touch of his lips on mine…

"Good evenin' love," Murphy winked. "And happy birthday."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

It was a fun-filled night of dancing. I loved dancing and I especially loved dancing with Connor and Murphy. Rocco was a blast too especially when he was trying to make Doc mad. At one point I seriously considered Doc planning to kill Rocco for making a motion around my buttocks.

While dancing with a man called Finch, I heard Connor and Murphy calling me back to the bar. I excused myself and trekked my way through a crowd of happy drunks. When I came to the bar I hopped on Connor's lap and gave him an inquisitive stare.

"We have a gift for ya," Murphy announced as he took a sip from his beer.

I clapped in excitement. I felt Connor grabbing something from his pocket and he handed me a dark blue velvet box.

My eyes widened. I could tell from the box itself that whatever it was that was inside was too much for Connor and Murphy's meatpacking job to afford.

I opened it slowly and became amazed at how the bar's light reflected from the white gold necklace. The long chain itself had crystal beads every few inches. The beautiful cross rested gently in my hands as I inspected the necklace. It was a fashionable rosary – and it was perfect.

I felt Connor take the necklace from my grasp. He clasped it around my neck and I touched the cross gently.

I hugged him suddenly. He was taken by surprise because I had been so forceful. Connor laughed and squeezed me lovingly. "Happy birthday, Amy, my love," Connor whispered.

My lips met his cheek and my eyes were soon on Murphy. My feet didn't even have to touch the floor as I leaped from one stool to another. Now in Murphy's lap I had my chance to show my gratitude as well. I kept repeating "Thank you" to Connor and Murphy. Murphy squeezed my shoulder and told me "Happy birthday."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

My anxiety about college hit an hour later. People were still partying in my name when it happened. I'm still not sure how it happened. I was so happy. But I was clutching the cross around my neck and I was nervous that someone would notice.

Without Doc paying attention, I had asked Rocco to bring me a few tequila shots. Doc had no real issue with drinking underage, but he knew how much I hated alcohol and was glad that I didn't have a taste for the stuff. But I needed something to calm my nerves…

Within a few moments I had taken my first shot of tequila. It had been the most disgusting thing to ever touch my tongue. The second and third shots soon came after. Before I knew what had happened, Rocco had lost count of the small glasses, and was handing me my sixth and seventh shots.

I started to laugh more. Dance more. The feeling that I was floating was enjoyable. In the back of my mind, I knew that I was drunk and that I should be smart and go upstairs before Doc or anyone else saw me.

Stumbling in my walk I made it appear that I had to use the bathroom.

I was soon running up the stairs to my bedroom. Dizziness hit. But I was able to find focus again. I was confused too. How much time had passed? Did I have two shots? Four? Or more…

Murphy was suddenly in view. He wasn't drunk; he was concerned. The man held me by the waist so I could find balance. But I found none. I realized that I was giggling like an idiot.

I'm not sure what Murphy was saying, I'm sure it was the usual: "Are you alright?" and "Have you been drinkin', love?"

I heard him crack a joke. I'm not exactly sure what he said but I laughed anyway.

I found those blue eyes again…

I was drunk but I still knew what I was doing. But I let it happen anyway…

I monkey-jumped Murphy. I had leaped into the air, wrapped my legs around his waist, and placed my hands on Murphy's shoulders. My lips crushed against his as he stumbled and hit the wall. I could feel him try desperately to get a better grasp of me. He seemed surprised by my strength as well.

My lips pouted when I pulled away due to his unresponsiveness to my kiss. Murphy looked almost fearful and embarrassed at what I had done. At that moment, I hadn't really cared.

But I thought I would try again. I felt my eyes water… my lips quivered… and I relaxed my legs around his waist. My feet were back on the floor but my hands had moved from his shoulders up to the sides of his face.

And this time he kissed me.

Words couldn't describe the wonderful sensation I felt. I felt small in his arms as he held me tightly. The kiss was desperate and I knew Murphy was struggling to not move his hands anywhere else than my back. His tongue found entrance in my mouth and I welcomed it… I pressed myself into his body – wanting to feel his whole body on mine.

My back was pressed against the wall and I realized Murphy had pinned me. But it was not in a kinky-rough-playful way. Murphy's eyes were studying mine. He released my body and took a step back.

I was trying to calm down myself. I suddenly hated myself for still being a virgin…

The rest is a blur. I awoke the next morning with a headache and I overheard Doc giving Rocco a hard time about giving me alcohol.

I didn't care about the punishment Doc would give me. I didn't care about my friends being upset that I had finally gotten drunk and it had been without them. I didn't care if Eric thought I had rather wanted to have fun at the bar than with him at the high school party.

I only cared about the fact that Murphy had kept what had happened last night to himself. Not even Connor knew, apparently. And Doc didn't know – which was the most important thing.

And I especially cared about the fact that he had kissed me in return.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Done for now. If you guys like I will continue. Reviews much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2 The Best News

Katy: Thanks for the awesome first review! And thanks for the tip – I hate writing in first person and I definitely hate writing in present tense (but somehow I still seem to slip up). But thanks again and I hope you enjoy!

PadfootCc: thank you! Hope you enjoy!

Author's Note: I wanted the first chapter to be in first point of view (Amy's) but now I will continue writing in third person as to show different perspectives in the story as well.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Chapter Two: The Best News**

If Murphy or Connor had ever involved themselves with a woman for a single night, they were careful to text Amy to scope out McGinty's to make sure the particular woman (or women) was not there searching for either twin. If the "coast was clear" (as Connor would say) the MacManus brothers would soon be at the bar.

It hurt Amy to realize that Murphy was trying to avoid her. Murphy and Connor too had not come to the bar since Amy's birthday – or at least they had come to the bar during times Amy was at school. There was a desire to text Murphy, just to apologize and explain, but her hand always shut the cell phone before she did anything (she might regret).

The eighteen-year-old brunette was sitting in her senior literature class. It was the last class of the day; Amy knew that as soon as it was two o'clock her ass was out the door. She had heard that Piper McMillan had received her letter from Northwestern yesterday. The poor girl had cried when she called Amy, informing the anxious teenager that she had been rejected. Piper's whimpering over the phone didn't help Amy's nerves at all. If Piper had received her letter yesterday then it meant Amy would be getting hers too? Soon?

_C'mon… _Amy thought anxiously. She hated staring at the clock. _I just want to get out of here…_ There was a tradition that if parents had received acceptance letters during the day when their kids were in school, they would come by the school, notify the front office, and that special boy or girl would hear their name announced overhead. That boy or girl would disappear from their classroom desk and speed down the hall … They were the lucky ones. They were the ones that received the best piece of news all day (and probably all week).

Doc was always busy during the day since a lot of people tended to hang around McGinty's at noon. Even if Doc could remember to check the mail, he didn't care to sort through it – that was Amy's job.

Her long, slender fingers were tapping the desk impatiently. Her boyfriend Eric, sitting behind her, laughed. His hand reached over to massage her shoulder in a comforting way. Amy didn't want to reveal that his helpfulness was actually annoying. She realized the boy she had been in a relationship since freshmen year was finally getting on her nerves. Amy knew the reason why Eric seemed to be more of a nuisance recently – it was his desire to go to an Illinois school just to be with Amy. And Eric had already received his acceptance letter.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor and Murphy tugged at their black pea coats against the chilly wind. A cigarette lit in their hands, the men crossed the road toward McGinty's.

Unaware of what had happened between Murphy and Amy on her birthday, Connor had no problem stopping by the bar for a quick drink before work. Murphy knew that Amy would be getting out of school soon, but he was tired of not seeing her. In fact, Murphy had missed her. Shift changes had to be made at work and Murphy and Connor were now working evenings instead of the mornings.

Murphy had a dozen reasons why it was wrong: _She was in high school. Just turned eighteen. Doc's niece. Going off to college soon. Too young. Already got a boyfriend…_

Amy wasn't necessarily his type either. Murphy and Connor both tended to go after the "scandalous" women. Nothing permanent. _Just good ol' fun then move on_. Murphy had always believed that his brother was more of the type to settle down one day. The dark-haired twin couldn't picture himself a "family man."

The men entered McGinty's for their usual drink. There were a few men there too, discussing the neighborhood and some nearby "business" goings-on.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy was running through the streets of Boston as if she were running for her life. Her dark hair blew against the wind and the cold air didn't affect her. Her feet hit the pavement harder each time.

Her eyes found McGinty's and the mailbox sitting right next to the main door.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor was making fun of Doc when the door swung open and a few leaves from the outside found their way in. The door slamming surprised everyone and each man waited for the figure to step inside.

"What tha fuck?" Connor asked aloud.

Amy suddenly ran inside. She instantly dropped her school bag by the door and stumbled to get to the stairs that led to the apartment.

Everyone noticed the large, white envelope nestled beneath her arms. She was hugging the large envelope and suddenly everyone in the bar understood what it was.

"Amy-" Murphy started, but the call of her name didn't stop Amy.

She did, however, pause on the steps and stared at Doc. The old man's mouth was open but nothing came out. No "fuck" or "ass"… just silence.

"I'm uh…" Amy stumbled with her words. "I'm going to… open this… upstairs… then…" She stared at the envelope again as if to make sure it was still in her arms. "I'll be right back."

She ran back up the stairs and disappeared.

Murphy and Connor were both out of their stools now – not sure whether to pace or run up the stairs.

Doc used a bar rag to wipe his sweaty forehead.

Amy screamed from above. It was a shrill, happy scream. The men could hear her jumping up and down repeatedly. Murphy and Connor were suddenly laughing and screaming too.

The girl reappeared from the apartment. She skipped down the steps and ran behind the bar. Throwing herself in Doc's arm and showing him the letter, Amy waited with tearful eyes for Doc to say something.

He read the letter. His eyes lit up and soon tears were forming too. Doc looked down at Amy, lifted her in his weak arms, and spun her around.

The entire bar was filled with excitement.

"She got in! She got in! FUCK! ASS! She got in!" Doc screamed.

Amy was tugged at from the other side of the bar. It was Connor – he was reaching for her and when Amy reached for him he had lifted her over the counter. He hugged her and congratulated her over and over again. His hearty laugh brought more tears to Amy's eyes.

There was excitement and joy in Amy's eyes and face and when she finally found Murphy her happiness seemed to be amplified. She jumped into his arms and felt Murphy's chin dig into her shoulder. He was laughing and somewhat jumping up and down. Murphy lifted Amy in his arms, like a child, and spun around.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Within hours the bar was filled with Amy's high school friends and their parents. The regulars were there too and they had even brought their children. There was excitement in the air as if it were Saint Patrick's Day.

Each parent had a drink, each high school student had a Coke, and the children were sitting in the bar's booths eating leftover Halloween candy. Some of the guys – including Rocco – had found old decorations in the storage from last year's Thanksgiving, Saint Patty's Day, and Christmas. The different types of holiday decorations went well with the already green bar. Adding the holiday spirit jump-started the party and the celebration in honor of Amy Jensen.

Eric's mother had made a banner before she arrived – it read in bold, purple letters: **FUTURE NORTHWESTERN GRADUATE**.

People had brought flowers and balloons and, if it hadn't been for Mrs. Beacon's sign, no one could be completely sure of what occasion was being celebrated.

Amy was forced to sit on a stool in the center of the bar. People were giving their individual toasts and congratulations. The embarrassment was obvious but everyone in the room cared too much to show how proud they were of the young woman.

After a couple of hours had passed somewhat drunk and sober parents left with their children. A few of the high school friends left with promises of doing special, individual celebrations. Eric left with his parents and the boyfriend promised Amy he was going to get online immediately and buy her Northwestern merchandise. Before he left Eric and his father had unloaded Amy's birthday gifts.

The bar was still pretty full up until the evening. Amy didn't get a chance to say bye to Connor and Murphy as they left for work. However Connor had left a text reading: _We'll be by tonight at eleven. Congratulations, love. _

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy noticed Doc wasn't behind the bar counter. One of the waitresses named Elena informed Amy that her uncle was upstairs.

She went upstairs and Amy took the time to slowly breathe in. She had been lost in the excitement since Amy had opened the Northwestern letter.

Doc's voice was heard above; it sounded as if he were on the phone.

The teenager realized that Doc was leaving a voicemail for her parents.

He ended the call with, "She'd pr-probably like to hear from ye. Aimes is pretty ex-c-c-cited. Love you Samantha. Good dey, Hank."

When Doc placed the phone down he turned around and stared at Amy.

"You called them?" Amy asked.

"Had ta love," Doc grinned.

"I know, Doc."

Amy approached the old man on the couch. She sat down beside him, nestled into his side, and Amy placed her cheek against Doc's shoulder.

"Thank you," Amy whispered.

"For what, love?"

Her dark green eyes met the old man's. "You raised me. Gave me a good home. A good life. You're the reason I got in."

"And Mother Mary," Doc reminded. He rubbed his niece's shoulder warmly.

Sitting up in the couch Indian style, Amy looked intently at the man. "Uncle…" Amy was pushing back the tears. "You are the most wonderful man in my life." She smiled and pressed her lips tight together. She released a breath and continued: "I suddenly realize that soon… in the summer… I'll probably have to go. And…" There was no use in holding onto her pride. Amy wept terribly into her uncle's arms. Doc was crying too. He did release a "Fuck!" or two. The "Ass!" came later.

Amy looked back up. "Thank you so much. For loving me. And for being this incredible person. I… I'm really going to miss you when the ti-time comes to leave."

"Now now, you leave da stutterin' to me," Doc wiped his nose with a handkerchief. "You are the great one here. You're going ta go off to a good school. Make a good life for yo'self. I love you dearie. And you'll always have a home here."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

It was close to eleven-thirty when Amy was sitting on the roof. Doc never approved of this manner but he couldn't necessarily control the girl. She stared up at the stars and tried to count all of them.

Northwestern was her dream and she had achieved it. Amy hadn't been sure why Chicago seemed like such an ideal place to live. She had researched colleges in the eighth grade and somehow Amy had picked Northwestern as her first choice. Her interests lied with many things: Art History, Theatre History, Film Studies, Communications, Journalism…

The school had a lot to offer and Amy knew she had the opportunity to explore different subjects. Financially Amy knew that her father would keep his promise in paying for her schooling up to six years. He may not have wanted a daughter, but Hank Jensen wanted his name to stand for something. In a phone call he had once asked Amy if she considered a doctorate program. Not even sure what career she wanted to pursue, Amy told him she'd probably do one. She lied. She wasn't trying to impress the man but she didn't want to give him any more reason to hold a grudge against her.

The idea of leaving Boston hurt. She would leave all her friends and her familiar home. Most importantly she was leaving McGinty's and Doc.

Doc always said he had kept the bar running because he had wanted to provide a good home for Amy. The young woman understood that some of the Russian mobsters in town had their eyes on McGinty's. It was common for small businesses to be taken. The Russians generally stayed away but somehow they had found their way to Doc's business. Amy hadn't heard any news of them – Doc did his best to keep Amy out of the loop. _What if I leave and the Russians come?_

The cold didn't bother her. She hugged her knees close to her chest and the maroon tanktop Amy wore did just fine in keeping her comfortable.

But she felt the weight of a heavy black coat around her shoulders. Amy looked up and realized that Connor had joined her on the roof.

He carefully sat beside her and revealed an old-looking green plan in his hand. "Mistletoe," Connor grinned. "Found it inside da bar. Shall we?"

Amy laughed and leaned in for Connor to kiss her forehead. He wrapped his arm around her with the mistletoe still in his hand. Amy took it from him and played with it carefully. Connor took his chance to light a cigarette.

Amy didn't care for cigarettes or alcohol but the way it smelled on the MacManus brothers was intoxicating.

"How was work?"

"Shit," Connor laughed. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke away from Amy. "Enjoy the party?"

"Glad people could get drunk in my name," Amy giggled. "Where's Murph?"

"Down havin' a drink with Rocco. He'll be up in a minute. Ya shouldn't be up here lass, gonna catch a cold."

"I'm okay."

"Doc said he was gonna let you skip school tomorrow. Dig in ta that fancy savings account of yers. Go shopping. Do girly things."

"I don't want to skip," Amy shook her head and laughed. "Now more than ever do I need to keep my grades up."

"Oh c'mon Amy, fuck it." Connor blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Take at least one day off. "Tomorrow's Friday the thirteenth. You won't be missin' much outa school. Relax. Start the weekend early."

Amy nodded slowly. "Maybe."

"Promise you'll consider it."

"Promise."

Connor nudged Amy's shoulder. "Good girl."

Amy looked down and stared at her rosary. She lifted the cross in her fingers and stared at Connor. "Thanks again Connor. I love this."

"Looks beautiful on ya," Connor smiled. "Something to rememba us by when you leave for Chicago. When do you expect to leave?"

She shrugged awkwardly. "I don't want to think about that too soon."

"Gotcha," Connor nodded. He threw the finished cigarette off the roof. Stretching, Connor rose and made his way toward the apartment opening.

"You comin' in soon love?"

"In a bit. I haven't finished counting the stars."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy was crawling back through the apartment's opening – the bathroom window – to escape the now freezing atmosphere.

Her foot was gently placed on the toilet seat when she came down. When Amy turned she found Murphy holding his hand out to her.

"Need a hand?" he asked with a sly grin.

Accepting his hand Amy hopped down onto the bathroom floor. The two walked out together and sat down on the living room couch. Amy removed Connor's coat and tossed it on the couch's arm.

She was still holding the mistletoe in her hand. Amy blushed when she noticed Murphy eyeing it curiously.

"Connor," Amy explained. She looked into Murphy's unsure face. He had no idea what to say.

"Well I'll go first." Amy exhaled. "Sorry Murphy. First time being drunk kind of led me to do a big, stupid thing."

"It's alright love," Murphy wrapped his arm around the girl. "I did a lot worse with my first drunk'd night. Woke up naked in a farmer's barn the next mornin'."

"Well I'm glad that nakedness wasn't part of the evening," Amy laughed. Murphy laughed with her.

The two sat quietly for a few seconds. Feeling comfortable now, Amy relaxed her legs on the couch and found herself leaning into Murphy's side. She rested her head on his chest as Murphy slumped back in the couch. He traced circles on Amy's back and Murphy was humming something.

"You're not bad of a kisser, actually."

"Murphy!" Amy's face grew red. She sat up instantly and stared at Murphy wide-eyed.

"Sorry love," Murphy laughed. He raised his arms in defense. "Jus' tryin' to lighten the mood."

"I already feel like an ass, you're not helping."

"Awe. Did I make the high school girl feel like an ass?" Murphy teased.

The _high school _reminder infuriated Amy. She turned the anger into a more playful mood. Amy sprung toward Murphy and felt his hands grab at her waist. She struggled to reach for his face but Amy had to grab hold of his sides to keep from falling off.

They fell off the couch anyway.

Amy was on her back while Murphy landed on his side. He continued to wrestle with her for a moment and Amy fought her way on top.

"Mercy?" Amy called.

"Never," the Irishman winked. He sat up quickly to hold Amy's arms behind her back. "Whatcha goin' ta' do now love-"

Her lips were on his. Amy didn't waste a moment in her struggle. She wanted to feel his lips as much as could before he pushed her away. Murphy's hands were placed on the small of her back. To her luck, Amy found that Murphy wasn't resisting this time. The stubble of his chin scratched against her neck as Murphy kissed her jawbone. Her head tilted back and Amy was aware she had never felt this kind of raw, sexual feeling. She had only kissed one other boy and he couldn't compare to this.

Amy found his lips again and her tongue slid easily in between his teeth. Their tongues glided beside one another – almost dancing – and Amy took the time to lick his tongue and even bite his lip. She could hear a noise growing in Murphy's throat. A moan? But he wouldn't dare let it escape.

Murphy shifted the young woman in his lap and reached around her neck. He wanted a tighter grip of her and Amy let him.

"Murphy…" Amy whispered. She had finally taken her chance to take a breath. They were breathing slowly and Murphy's eyes were staring up into Amy's.

She wasn't sure what to say. Amy reached to touch Murphy's face and her thumb traced his lips.

His hand reached up to push away a strand of hair. He tucked the strand behind her ear and leaned back on both arms. Amy's hands were still resting on Murphy's chest.

"I'm not sure…" Amy started slowly. "I'm not sure what this is. What I'm doing… I just…"

Murphy nodded. "Tryin' ta figure it out myself Amy."

Amy began to stand up and Murphy followed. Standing close together Amy stuck her hands in the back-pockets of her jeans. This motion allowed Amy to keep her hands off the man.

"Amy…" Murphy whispered gently. He took Amy's hands into his own. "This can't… this can't be right." He narrowed his eyes at her as if to make sure she understood. "I'm older. You're… you're still just in high school…"

"And in less than seven months I'm a high school graduate. And in August I'm a college student," Amy fought back. "The age thing isn't that big of a deal."

"It is to Doc," Murphy reassured. "And to me too."

"Really, Murphy?" It was Amy's turn to narrow her eyes at him. "Is it that big of a difference? I've seen you with older women… younger women… we know each other, Murph, and all I know is that…" She gulped. "I just know that… I like you. And I _really_ like kissing you – and it's not a phase so don't think that – and I know you've been flirting with me since I was seventeen-"

"Amy," Murphy warned. His voice was a lot more authoritative. "We need to stop this. I can't… I can't seem to control myself."

"Sounds good to me." Amy laughed. But Murphy wasn't laughing with her this time.

"It's fine," Amy suddenly said. She grabbed Connor's coat and made her way to the stairs. "Whatever."

She trotted down the stairs and Murphy could hear her laughing with Doc and Connor. Murphy rubbed his chin and sat back down on the couch. His eyes glazed over the mistletoe on the floor.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Hope everyone's enjoying! Reviews much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3 The Worst Day

**Chapter Three: The Worst Day**

_November 15, 1998._

McGinty's didn't open until four o'clock on Sundays. Doc was a good Catholic man and he made his time and business center around Sunday Mass. There was no doubt that Connor and Murphy would be amongst Doc and the rest of the group. Amy rejected Doc's invitation to church – again – but she had actually been tempted to take the offer. According to Connor, Murphy had caught a cold so that had been the reason why he had been missing from the bar all weekend. Amy didn't bother to text or worry anymore. She had embarrassed herself and Amy realized she had more important things to worry about.

Her Sunday agenda was to research apartments around Northwestern University, orientation dates, and all the important things that would lead Amy into another anxiety attack.

She was upstairs in her bedroom. Sitting in her desk and face focused on her laptop screen, Amy tapped a pencil nervously on the edge of her desk. She jotted things down in a notebook while printing several pages of information she had about Northwestern itself and apartments.

It was during her tapping that Amy heard the door to the bar open.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"We're closed 'till four, sorry!" Amy called as she skipped down the stairs. Her gray hoodie hung loosely on her shoulders revealing a white V-neck t-shirt. Her torn jeans were her favorite to wear on her lazy day. Amy had hoped to continue a relaxing-research-day but didn't mind company if the visitor really wanted to stay.

But there was no familiar visitor in the bar.

Amy had barely made it halfway across the bar when she realized two unfamiliar men standing before her. One was extremely tall and lanky – he had white hair and wore a blue suit. The other, a shorter, bulkier man, smiled behind a line of white teeth with a single gold tooth. Their Russian accents were thick as they talked. They spoke in their own language to one another. They eyed Amy carefully and took a step forward.

"We are looking for owner," the bulky one said. "We have appointment." He cracked his knuckles in each fist. "You are niece?"

"Yes," Amy replied gently. "But the owner is at church. All day. Come back later."

The tall man grinned. "We wait."

"Sorry, business closed today," Amy tried again, gentler this time. "You'll have to leave."

"Need company?" Bulky Man asked.

"Please. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. _Do svidaniya (Goodbye)_." Amy had remembered a few phrases Connor had taught her.

"Smart girl," Tall Man laughed. His laughing made Amy uncomfortable. She took a step back.

Amy was in fact a smart girl and she remembered what Doc had taught her. She had remembered what Connor, Murphy, Rocco, and what all the other guys had taught her. She needed to stay calm and play nice.

But it was too obvious that they weren't willing to play nice.

The two Russians took a few steps toward her.

Amy ran.

She sped up the stairs and fearfully heard their heavy steps behind her. Amy didn't get the chance to lock the apartment door before Bulky Man kicked it open.

Amy tried to scream but the fist of the Bulky Man was quick to silence her.

She tasted blood. Amy was too frightened to scream. She stumbled back trying to keep as much space between the men and herself.

The next move she made was her attempt to run pass the men and down the stairs.

Tall Man grabbed her. He was laughing. That evil laugh pierced her eyes in ways she was too horrified to think about. _What are they going to do…_ she thought.

Her body was thrown down the stairs. Her attempt to push away Tall Man failed.

The fall wasn't too bad but Amy had recollected herself well enough to try and get up, scream, and reach the exit door.

But she was being tossed around like a rag doll. Amy wasn't sure what was happening herself. She had been thrown over the bar counter. Her arms were cut by broken liquor bottles. Her head ached and Amy tried throwing a bucket of ice at them.

The whole time they laughed…

They did, however, leave her alive.

Amy was trying to pull herself off the floor by reaching for the bar counter.

The Russians were gone.

Amy's mind wandered back to the abuse she had just suffered. Had she screamed loud enough? Did anyone hear her? _Did I even bother to scream…_

Her throat was sore. Her entire body was in pain. Nothing seemed broken but her arms, hoodie and shirt were stained with blood. Her mouth and bottom lip hurt. Blood was dripping from her forehead.

She threw up on the floor.

All the strength Amy could muster allowed her to crawl up the stairs to the apartment.

While her weak arms and knees tried to get her to the apartment, Amy realized she wasn't quite sure what had happened. She had had her ass kicked, she knew this, but Amy wasn't even completely sure how badly hurt she was. She was able to move, that was good, but Amy couldn't remember how many times they had punched her. Kicked her. Thrown her onto the floor.

She just wanted to forget it all.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor and Murphy tagged along with Doc and others on their way to the bar. Connor was talking to Doc about Amy's plans to move to Chicago in the summer. Murphy followed quietly behind, smoking a cigarette, and hoped that maybe the situation had calmed down. Or at least ceased to exist. But Murphy wanted to kick himself for thinking such a thing. He knew it was wrong. All wrong. But he cared for Amy nonetheless. He desired to talk with her and to at least rekindle the friendship that was so important to Murphy.

He began to walk ahead of the group and Murphy teased Connor saying he couldn't catch up. The brothers kicked and badgered one another as they grew closer to McGinty's. Connor was glad to see Murphy in a better mood. His cold had made Murphy rather irritating the last few day. Connor wasn't sure if Murphy had really been sick. He knew his brother well enough when he was trying to keep something hidden. They told each other everything. But whatever it was that was eating Murphy – Murphy was keeping it to himself.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor entered the bar first. Murphy, Doc and group of three – thirsty for a drink – followed behind.

All stood frozen in the entryway.

Broken glass was scattered across the floor. Ice was still in the process of melting beneath their feet. And blood. They saw a small pool on the area of the floor beneath the bar counter.

"Call the fuckin' police!" Connor yelled.

"AMY!" Doc and Murphy shouted at the same time.

Connor, Murphy, and Doc ran up the stairs. Their boots hit each step heavily and they didn't notice the blood trail on the wooden steps.

The living room was not as chaotic as the bar, but the blood was enough.

Connor followed the trail toward the bathroom. He found Amy leaning against the bathtub. Her hand was clutching onto a bar rag and some ice.

She looked so fragile and broken before them. Doc could barely get into the bathroom because Connor and Murphy were checking on the young woman.

"Amy!" Murphy called to her. One of her eyes was quite red and would definitely be shut closed in the morning. Blood was found everywhere on her body – according to Connor's inspection, he announced, "Nothin's broken."

"Amy," Murphy called her name again. His voice was slowly bringing her back to consciousness. "Amy, love, you alright? Can you speak ta me? Who did this?"

She was too weak to lift her own head.

Someone from below yelled: "Police is comin'! Ambulance too!"

"Doc, get towels, and a robe," Connor directed to the worried old man. Doc hadn't said a word but his face was frozen on the pale complexion of his nieces.

"Amy, speak ta me," Murphy instructed gently. He now had Amy propped up in his lap. Her head rested on his forearm.

Her eyes tried to open. She took in a breath and immediately coughed blood.

"_Russians_…" Amy whispered. "Mob guys. They came… looking for Doc." She whimpered in pain. "Tried to be nice…"

"Help's comin Amy, now love, can you move your arms and legs?" Connor asked desperately.

"I…" Amy pressed her lips together. They stung. "I…hurt."

She was almost too weak to cry. It hurt her whole body to let the tears just come.

"_Sshhh love_," Murphy whispered. "We're here. We're wit' ya. We aren't leavin'. Help's comin'. Help's comin'."

"Murphy…" Amy asked. "Doc… is he okay?"

"He's alright love, he's getting you a robe and some towels. Are ye cold, love?"

"Just keep holding me," Amy begged through ferocious tears. "Murphy, Connor… please don't leave."

Amy couldn't keep her eyes open. She drifted into a painless sleep and she could still hear Murphy's voice in the distance. The black abyss she now entered was calm and quiet. She was caught in the middle of nothing.

The pain wasn't as bad anymore…

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Will update ASAP. Review, please. Thanks again!


	4. Chapter 4 The Awakening

**Chapter Four: The Awakening**

_Thank God… _Murphy thought. He stood in between Connor and Doc while Doctor Travers explained Amy's condition. The loss of blood was due to the many small, but minor, cuts that had been made into her skin by the broken liquor bottles. "They'll heal," the doctor informed them. "However there'll be a large scar on her back." The wound on her back had been larger than any cut. Nothing was broken. Her left wrist was sprained and she had a few bruised ribs. "Amy was extremely lucky," the doctor nodded his head. He explained that shock was responsible for Amy's condition when Connor and Murphy had first found her. She was apparently fine, now, and Amy was in her own room in ICU talking to the police.

"You can see Amy after she's had word with the police," Dr. Travers announced.

Doc thanked him and watched the doctor walk away.

It was just the three of them sitting in the Waiting Room. The others who had joined them in McGinty's had been told to go home. During the ride in the ambulance, Amy had begged that Doc call no one. She didn't want her school friends or anyone else finding out about the attack.

Before leaving the apartment, Doc had grabbed the rosary Connor and Murphy had given Amy. He clutched the necklace in his shaking hands. All Doc wanted was to give the rosary to his niece and to hold her.

"FUCK! ASS!" the old man shouted. Others in the Waiting Room turned away. They just assumed the man was dealing with a very grave family emergency.

"What do ya think she's tellin' 'em?" Connor asked. He rested his elbows on his knees and Connor rubbed his face roughly.

"Dunno," Murphy replied quietly. "We'll see."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Two officers approached Doc and the MacManus brothers a few minutes later. Officer Bennett, a female, shook hands with Doc and explained: "She informed us that two men, dressed in casual wear, had come in to steal some liquor bottles. She didn't realize there was a break-in until she came down the stairs. She assumed it had been a friend or a regular. The men attacked her to stop her from calling the police. They beat her up and left. She couldn't give very detailed descriptions of the men – she had never seen them before, either – but could only tell us that one was large with curly black hair and the other was about her height with short blonde hair. Descriptions mean anything to you?"

Doc shook his head. "N-n-no."

"We'll be looking into things. Please keep in touch if anything else comes to mind. Your niece was very lucky today," the second officer, Quentin, said.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Doc entered the hospital room first. He tried to ignore the sounds of all the machines surrounding Amy. The steady beep of the machine closest to her was going to drive Doc mad.

She looked serene. She looked okay.

Murphy and Connor followed behind.

Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was sitting up, playing with the brace on her wrist, and turned with a happy smile toward her uncle and friends.

Her right eye could barely open itself fully. There was a cut on her lip and on the upper corner of her forehead. But her smile revealed as if she had not been through some great ordeal at all.

"Aimes, my love," Doc whimpered through tears as he ran toward her. He had almost collapsed on the bed with her but Doc caught himself. He threw his arms around her shoulder and held her close to his neck. "You alright, lo-love?"

"I'm fine," Amy laughed. "The drugs they gave me are pretty good."

Connor and Murphy came around to the opposite side of the bed.

She was trying to adjust her hospital robe in their view. Amy shrugged and said, "Not the best, fashionable stuff here."

"You look great," Connor smirked. But his face fell and he turned serious. "We heard the story you told the police."

"What really happened, love?" Murphy asked. His hand reached for hers and their fingers entwined with one another.

"I told them what you would have wanted me to say," Amy informed them. "I remembered what you guys always told me about these mob guys. If I had given the police the real description…"

"Russians wouldn't be too happy 'bout that," Connor nodded. "Did they give their names? What'd they look like?"

"No names. No introductions. I assumed they were just Messengers or Dealers. Not Soldiers." Amy tried to remember the details. "The Bulky Man… well, obviously, bulky. Umm. He had a gold tooth. I can't really recall any other details. The Tall Guy – tall, lanky, and had really gray or white hair."

"Why'd they come afta ya?" Murphy asked intently.

"Not sure," Amy shrugged. "I was nice. I didn't provoke them in any way. I ended the conversation with a '_Do svidaniya' _and next thing I knew… I was running up the stairs." She was trying to hold herself together. Thinking back on the attack made tears reappear. "I… I tried to fight back. _I think_. But they kept playing around with me. They kept laughing and…"

"_Sshhh my dear,_" Doc reached for his niece's cheek. He cupped her face into his trembling hand. "You were smart love. You told the police what they needed to hear. No way the fuckin' police would be a-able to get their hands on these _FUCK! ASS!_ assholes."

"Right," Connor agreed. "If it were to get in the papers that mobsters had done this…" He stared at Amy. "They'd come back."

Murphy gritted his teeth. "Ya know what that means now, right? They _won't_ fuckin' come back. Not for a while. They're gonna keep fuckin' low."

"What about Rocco?" Amy asked. "Couldn't he-"

Connor: "No love. Don't want to involve more of this shit."

Murphy: "Right. Rocco's boss won't give a fuck."

Amy: "So that's it?" Her hand rolled into a fist. "I got my ass beat and these guys go free? What the hell-"

Murphy touched Amy's shoulder tenderly. "We don't even know who the Russians' boss is, love. Connor and I would be out there right fuckin' now if we even had a name. Doc has no idea who it is exactly that wants tha bar. We know how it works – these assholes fucked up. Their boss won't be too pleased to hear 'bout it. That is, if those little pieces of shit even say anythin'. But they won't come back for a while. Promise love. But we're gonna be here for ya. Alright?"

The shaken eighteen-year-old nodded her head slowly. She couldn't count all the times Doc, Murphy, Connor, and Rocco had given her tips on how to handle these particular "situations." According to them, Amy had acted admirably and she had done the right thing with giving the cops a fake story.

"This won't get out, right?" Amy asked desperately. "No news people and all that? I don't want anyone finding out about it."

Doc: "Amy-"

"No," she fought back. "I don't want people visiting and feeling sorry for me. I don't look too bad." She stared at Connor and Murphy. "Just tell people I fell down the stairs. The doctor said I could go home tonight if I'd like. Or sooner. And I choose the latter." She took in a deep breath. "I just don't want this getting out, 'kay? Please?"

"I'll make a few calls," Doc nodded. "Tell the whole lot a story. We'll have to close down th-th-tha bar for a few days for _renovations_."

"I'll go with ya Doc," Connor said. "Help ye wit' calls." The dirty-blonde twin turned to Amy. He leaned over and kissed the girl on the forehead. "Be right back love. Need anything?"

"No," Amy smiled. "I got everything I need."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Murphy was lying in the bed with Amy. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders and she cuddled close to him. The hand with a sprained wrist rested comfortably on Murphy's chest. The rosary was wrapped around the wrist too. He reached his finger tips to hers, playing with them, and reached to stroke Amy's chin.

"Doc's gettin' all the paperwork love. You'll be goin' home soon."

Amy nodded. Her eyes were closed and she nestled further into Murphy's arms. "You're going to have to help me out Murph. Doc's freaked. He's not going to let me out of his sight."

"Neither will Connor and me," Murphy informed her. "We'll take turns comin' by the bar. Watch over ya."

"I don't need baby-sitters," she teased.

"Not baby-sitters," Murphy kissed her temple. "Think of it more like guardian angels."

Amy stared at the rosary wrapped around her wrist. She touched the cross between her fingers. "Yeah. I guess you guys are." She groaned out of annoyance. "Can we leave yet? I hate hospitals."

"Soon, love, soon," he reassured her. Murphy hugged Amy tighter. The young woman stared at the tattoo on Murphy's hand: _Aequitas_, meaning "Justice."

"'Think _justice_ will ever actually come into play?" Amy asked quietly.

"Soon, love, soon," Murphy repeated.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Doc was taking things out of hand. In the eight years Amy had lived at McGinty's she had never taken a bad fall or even had to visit the hospital for anything major. The old man took the necessary precautions to renovate the bar and to keep people from thinking anything bad had happened. The police had been helpful in filing the report without having the story reach the news or papers.

Amy missed two days of school and did notify her friends that she had taken a bad fall down the stairs.

Eric and some others had wanted to visit but Amy rejected any requests. She was too tired and sore to be dealing with anything. Her only desire was to get back to school.

Amy was lying on the couch in the living room. After leaving the hospital Amy found that her knees and shins were pretty bruised up. Her legs were propped up on pillows as she watched a few afternoon soap operas. She didn't care for television but the painkillers the doctor gave her helped her with her concentration. Her eyes glazed over the television screen and she closed her eyes. She just wanted to sleep.

Doc was below for the small gathering of the "reopening" of McGinty's. She could hear Rocco's voice thundering throughout the place.

She reached for her cell phone on the cherry wood center table. Finding Murphy's name in her Contacts, Amy texted: _Visit me._

A few moments later she heard footsteps coming up.

Murphy smiled at her through the doorway. He looked good. Amy liked the navy blue sweater he wore and the raggedy pair of jeans. He walked toward her and started to remove the pillows from beneath her knees and legs. Murphy sat down, placed Amy's legs across his lap, and began to remove the house slippers from her feet. His rough hands started to caress her foot before he started to massage it. He had strong hands; the type that revealed those hands had done a lot of manual work.

"How you doin' sweetheart?" he asked.

"Drugged up," she giggled. "I can't sleep."

"You should go to your bedroom. Turn off all the lights. Wear one of those girly mask things and just relax."

"Will you come with me?" Amy teased.

At this Murphy started to tickle her feet. She kicked him.

"Hey did you hear," Amy asked, "Doc called my school. He asked if there was any way I could graduate early." She laughed. "He wants me to get the hell out of here as soon as possible."

"He's worried," Murphy said seriously. "I think he just wants you to get to Chicago as soon as possible."

"Well _IIII_ don't want to go yet," Amy pouted. "And he wants me to leave at the beginning of the summer. I was hoping to just settle some stuff earlier in the summer – apartment and all that – but I didn't want to actually leave until at least the first week of August."

"Give it time. Let him relax." Murphy started to massage Amy's calves. "He's fuckin' freaked that you'll get hurt again."

"That's why I got you MacManus," Amy slurred.

Murphy noticed the soap opera on. He laughed at the current channel and turned to Amy.

"Want to do somethin'? Get you outa this place? How 'bout a movie?"

She started to sit up. Amy clapped her hands and asked, "Can we go see a dirty movie?"

Murphy raised his eyebrows.

"You know the Phoenix Theatre? They play dirty movies after eight or something. And I'm eighteen now, can we go?" Amy's eyes were wide with interest. Murphy started to laugh. "Oh c'mon, _pleeaaassseee_?"

Connor had joined the group suddenly. He had a box of pizza in his arms and a slice already in his mouth.

"Pizza?" he asked.

"Hey Connor," Murphy laughed, "Amy wants to go see a dirty movie."

"Wha'?" Connor asked with a mouthful of pepperoni. He came around and set the pizza box on the table. Sitting beside Amy, Connor continued to give her a blank stare. "Porno?"

"Oh it'll be fun," Amy laughed. "Not like _dirty_ fun but it'll just be funny fun! Just tell Doc we're going to a regular movie. Please?" The teenager noted the hesitant glances of the twins. "I mean… I did get my ass kicked around…" She winced in imaginative pain and touched the brace on her wrist.

"Oh now don't you fuckin' start." Connor grumbled.

"Doc would kill us if he found out," Murphy reminded.

"If I'm with you guys he won't care," Amy pleaded. "C'mon… I'm as high as a kite right now. I just want to laugh. Please…" The twins still weren't sure. "I could always ask Rocco-"

"No fuckin' way," Murphy shouted. "He'd get his hard-on and-"

Amy: "I get it, I get it… so…?

Connor leaned back in the couch and sighed.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor, Amy, and Murphy sat in the back row at Phoenix Theatre. Connor had found an old bed sheet in Doc's storage room. It had been his idea to use the sheet as a cover for the theatre's seats. "I'm not sittin' in someone's stuff," Connor had said. Murphy wanted the three of them to sit in the back row as to not have anyone, from behind, do or say anything that would cause Connor or Murphy to start a fight. Amy, still sluggish from the afternoon painkillers, sat Indian-styled with her elbow leaning on her knee and her chin resting in her hand. Her eyes were focused on the screen.

There were only four or five others in the theatre. None of them were together, however, and they were spread out amongst the seats. Murphy kept his eye careful on the other men in the theatre. _If anyone of them even turn around and look at Amy, I swear… _he thought. He turned his head to stare at his brother who was laughing with Amy.

"Why do you suppose she's doing that?" Connor asked in regards to the main female character.

"She _really_ wants that discount on her purchase," Amy whispered back. "She did save those coupons."

Connor nodded. "Mhm. Women sure do want that discount."

"And she's willing to do… anything… for it," Amy giggled. She turned her head sideways. "How did she do that?"

Imitating her motion, Connor shrugged and said, "Must be a gymnast or something."

"The two of you are fuckin' hilarious," Murphy laughed. "I can name twenty other places I'd rather be at right now. And the two of you are just havin' a good ol' time."

Amy pouted her lips and rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh Murphy, you're having fun. You're just too embarrassed." Her eyes darted back to the screen. "How could you not like _that_?"

"Now ya see," Connor pointed out, "Murphy doesn't like women that easy. He likes a challenge."

"A challenge…" Amy repeated. Her eyes went back to Murphy – this time there was a seductive smile crawling across her face. "So Murphy likes hard-to-get girls."

"In a sense," Connor agreed. He was tilting his head at the screen again.

Murphy was staring intently at Amy. He wasn't sure whether to blame the drugs or the hormones. But he couldn't describe the look Amy was giving him. She was being playful yet serious.

"Oh, here comes the fourth manager…" Connor noted. "Now it's a party."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy loved Longfellow Bridge at night. The cool air gliding over the water sent chills down her back. It was just Amy and Murphy walking through South Boston. Connor had a morning shift the next day and had gone home for sleep.

She tugged at the purple cardigan tighter. Amy regretted not bringing anything warmer. The girl noticed Murphy about to remove his black coat when Amy stopped him. Instead, she slid into Murphy's side and wrapped her arms around him within his jacket. His arm, of course, wrapped around her shoulders.

They paused at a part of the bridge where they weren't caught in the oncoming traffic. Amy and Murphy came to the edge of the bridge's balcony.

She unraveled herself from Murphy's arms and Amy overlooked the water.

"God I love Boston," Amy laughed. "This city is the best." She held her arms out and spun around. When the dizziness hit, Amy stopped and laughed out of embarrassment. Amy caught the subtle glance Murphy was giving her. "What?"

"Ha, nothin'," Murphy laughed. "Just. You."

"Yeah. Me."

Amy grinned and suddenly ran toward Murphy. She jumped into his arms, feet off the ground, and her legs dangled. Her grip was tight around Murphy.

"Murphy…" her voice was quiet.

"Yes, love?" he asked.

She buried her face into his neck. As she spoke, Amy's voice was muffled, but Murphy was able to understand her: "I'm really going to miss you."

"Whatcha mean now Amy?" He asked. Concern was heard in his tone. "I'm right here."

Amy loosed her hold of the man. He let her back on the ground and stared down into the sad face. Murphy touched Amy's chin and his eyes begged for a response.

"I've known you since I was a kid…" she began slowly. "I've known you as long as I've known Boston. This place is my home. And you… I consider us to be really close. Our _relationship _surpasses just being friends or family…" She let go of Murphy and took a step back. She was obviously nervous. "In the last couple of weeks a lot has happened-"

"Amy-"

"I've cheated on my boyfriend." Amy's voice was cold and distant. It was as if she weren't talking to Murphy anymore, but realizing what she had done. "I got into the college that I've dreamed about since I was a kid. I got drunk. I… attacked you." She laughed. "I forced myself on a man that's nine years older than me. And… I was attacked by mob guys." She shook her head. "So much has happened… and I've done bad things and bad things have happened to me…" Amy stared back into Murphy's face. "Yet I still love this city." She was shaking now. Murphy realized she was trying her hardest not to cry. "Most of my friends are going to Boston University – they'll still be close to family and friends – and I'm going off somewhere that's like a thousand miles away…"

"You'll visit," Murphy reassured. He took several steps toward her and tried to catch her in his grasp. But Amy moved away from him.

"And then there's _this_…" Amy snapped. "I think about you when I should be thinking about my boyfriend. When I'm with you all I want you to do is to take me into your arms and ravish me-" She was rambling now "and I hate that you're older and I hate that I feel this way. And I don't want to leave. I can't leave Doc. I can't move away. I just…" She was starting to weep uncontrollably. "And I _HATE_ crying!" She shook her head violently when Murphy tried to take her back into his arms. "I've cried more in the last two weeks than in my whole life! I hate crying and I hate people see me cry – and you've seen me cry more than I can bear it and I just…" Amy stumbled back at Murphy's touch. "I just don't know how to handle any of this."

Murphy finally had his grasp on her. He held her in his arms and forced Amy to stay there. She was trying to force herself to stop crying. Amy tugged at Murphy's coat and clung to his chest. His hand rested on the back of her head as Murphy tried to calm Amy down. He never realized what went on necessarily in Amy's head. She had always put school first. Amy loved Doc and she loved the bar. She was confident, beautiful, and head-strong.

Yet Murphy never knew how attached she was to this city. Or to him.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The walk back to McGinty's had been a silent one. Amy was embarrassed: _My face must be so red and puffy…_ She hugged herself as she walked. Amy was grateful that Murphy had been silent, but she wanted to know what he was thinking. But Murphy was trying to think about the same thing in regards to Amy.

He walked beside her, close to her, and Murphy had the urge to just reach down and hold her hand. But Murphy was worried that any contact would just drive Amy to push him away.

When she had stopped crying on Longfellow Bridge, all she had said was "Let's go" and, after no debate, Murphy escorted Amy back home.

McGinty's lights weren't on.

Amy stepped inside the bar and Murphy was surprised to see no one there. It was only past one, which was usually McGinty's busiest time, on any day.

Murphy found a note on the counter:

_Amy, _

_Had to go and take care of Marian uptown. Will be back tomorrow afternoon. Love you my dearest._

After reading the note aloud, Murphy looked at Amy and asked, "Want me to stay a bit with you?"

Amy stared at the note blankly. She looked so pale and cold. "I'm fine," she said. "Thanks for walking me home."

"My pleasure." He smiled. Murphy approached Amy and was glad to see her not recoil against his touch. Amy hugged Murphy and leaned her head against his chest.

"Sorry about the emotional breakdown. I won't let it happen again," Amy joked.

Murphy swayed with Amy in his arms. He kissed the top of her head. "I don't mind, love."

Amy pulled away slightly and looked up at Murphy. "Thanks too… for always being a good friend. And a gentleman. I've been pretty forward with you and I understand your concern. I'll stop that too…"

Murphy nodded slowly. He pursed his lips and sighed.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

They were suddenly in each other's arms. Murphy's hands were firmly placed on Amy's face. He kissed her roughly and felt Amy's fingers dig into his sides. When Amy bit his lip Murphy couldn't help but let a moan escape his throat. His hand was gripping the back of her neck.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

They were in Amy's bedroom. Murphy fell back onto the green comforter. He smiled slyly while watching Amy crawl on top of him. Her long, dark hair curtained their faces as Amy leaned down to continue kissing Murphy. She loved the feeling of his scratchy chin graze against her own chin or neck – depending whether he was kissing her lips or neck.

It was obvious to Amy that Murphy wasn't sure of what to do. She made the decision for him. Amy sat up and quickly removed her cardigan. Once that was off, she had Murphy's assistance in the removal of her white T-shirt. He paused to stare at the white bra which pushed Amy's breasts tighter together.

His hands were careful with her body. Murphy held Amy by the waist, thumbs stroking her slender stomach. He pulled Amy's face down to kiss her again.

Amy felt hot and cold all at the same time. She knew her heart was beating fast and she was scared that Murphy could actually hear it. She had never gone that far with Eric, she had always been hesitant, but Amy now had no problem with whatever Murphy wanted to do. And she knew he wanted her. All of her. Right now.

Murphy swiftly switched positions. With Amy on her back, Murphy, with his hands still on her waist, began to trail kisses down from her neck and stomach. Amy wanted to watch Murphy's every move but she couldn't help but shut her eyes in ecstasy.

His teeth glided gently over her hipbone. Amy looked at Murphy and watched as he began to undo her pants. He slid them off, carefully, his eyes never leaving her gaze.

Murphy grinned at the purple pair of boy shorts Amy wore. He crawled back toward Amy, positioning himself between her legs, and kissed her. Amy could feel his excitement press against her. Amy's legs automatically gripped Murphy tighter in order to feel him better. She hated that he still had his clothes on.

Amy struggled to get her arms free. She tugged at the sweater Murphy wore and forced it off. Luckily he hadn't been wearing anything beneath it. Amy traced the tattoos she found on Murphy's chest with her fingers. With her hands roaming his back, Amy tightened her grip on Murphy and pressed his bare chest to make contact with hers.

"Murphy," she moaned, "_I want you_…"

He met her glance and touched her face. "Are you sure, love?"

"_Yes_," Amy pleaded. She grabbed Murphy's face and kissed him again. His tongue was much more forceful this time.

Between kisses Amy had undone Murphy's pants and tried to push them down from around his waist. Her legs were already in bent-position, so Amy began to use her toes to push Murphy's pants down around his ankles. Murphy took care of the rest. The only thing left on the man was his black pair of boxers.

Murphy sat up with Amy in his grasp. He positioned Amy in his lap and the two continued kissing. His arms were strong as they were wrapped around Amy. She had always felt his strength in hugs, but this had been different. Murphy pushed aside the hair that dangled close to Amy's cheek. Amy took her chance to pull away from his lips and move to his ear. She nibbled on his earlobe and found this made Murphy moan louder. Tempted to try something new, Amy stuck her tongue in his ear. The motion made Murphy grip her tighter. Amy giggled at the idea of having Murphy's hand prints bruised on her back.

Feeling Murphy between her thighs was driving Amy insane. Murphy slid one of the bra straps from her shoulder. He bit gently into her shoulder, kissing and licking the area, and began to slide the other strap with his free hand. Amy undid the bra – becoming sick of it – and tossed it to the floor.

His hands moved to her breasts. He massaged them firmly; Murphy wanted to feel Amy in the grasp of his hands. Her head tilted back as he did this. When his lips met her nipple Amy could no longer keep herself quiet. She bit her bottom lip in order to keep her volume down. _"Murphy…"_ escaped her lips. Her face came back to Murphy's. She held Murphy's face in her hands and placed a kiss on his lips… The time had come.

Amy was on her back again. She felt Murphy slowly remove her underwear and watched as he removed his own. His naked body hovering above her was a wonderful image. Amy knew she could never forget it.

He was inside her. The pain was immense but she allowed Murphy to continue. The first few minutes Amy had pressed her face into Murphy's shoulder. He was careful with her. He went at a slow pace. His eyes met Amy's. She made small, quiet noises – she was fighting back the pain and trying to keep Murphy from stopping.

It wasn't long before the pain turned to pleasure. Amy had her fingernails gripping Murphy's back. His pace quickened and Amy bit her lip harder. She couldn't stop herself from screaming his name or pressing him to go faster, harder.

Amy smiled to herself. She was enjoying sex more than she could have ever imagined. The feeling of Murphy inside her was overwhelming yet exciting. She didn't want him to stop and Murphy was in no hurry. She loved the sound of her name being called out – especially with his deep, Irish accent.

There seemed to be no stopping the evening. The white light from the moon and stars continued to shine bright. The air remained cold. The trees danced amidst the wind. The night could not stop itself.

And neither would they.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Review appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5 Being Realistic

**Chapter Five: Being Realistic**

If it hadn't been for the weight of Murphy's arm hanging over her waist, Amy would have thought last night was a dream.

She panicked. She wondered how her hair looked or if her breath smelled bad. Then Amy became increasingly aware that her body hurt. The bruises from the attack hadn't properly healed and last night's events hadn't helped the process. Amy was too scared to move. If Murphy woke up… _Would he leave? Would he stay? Is he a cuddler?_ She wasn't sure what to think.

Amy kept still. She realized that Murphy had spent the night. He had stayed.

Her body moved slowly in order to pull the comforter tighter around her nakedness. Murphy continued to sleep quietly. Amy could feel the surface of his scruffier chin graze her back.

She had given herself up to Murphy MacManus. In all of high school Amy Jensen had had one boyfriend – Eric – and she had never even contemplated sleeping with him.

She hadn't cried. Amy was glad for it. Her girl friends had told her the horrific tales of crying during or after sex. Some of her friends even admitted that they still cried after sex sometimes. Amy had never understood crying due to sex. The idea of sharing your body with another seemed natural.

Amy didn't want to cry. She wanted to smile and force Murphy to wake up. _Would they have sex again? Or would there be that awkward conversation…_

She tried not to wake him up. However, Amy longed to turn around and just stare at his sleeping face. Murphy's legs began to move underneath the bed sheets. She tried to keep calm. Amy was completely and utterly unprepared…

His lips met the still-healing wound on her back. Amy smiled as she felt his arm snake around her waist further. He pulled her closer to him and Amy could feel her back completely touching his chest.

"G'mornin," he breathed.

Amy sighed with a grin planted firmly on her face. "Good morning." She turned her head slowly to face him. Murphy had to adjust his head on the adjacent pillow to give her more room. He didn't seem to care about the factor of morning-breath. Murphy kissed her and used his hand to pull her chin closer to his.

She completely turned in bed to face him. Murphy grabbed at the comforter on her side to ensure she was warm.

The two lied quietly in bed staring at each other. Murphy played with the corner of the green comforter. "You sure do like green."

"It's my favorite color," Amy reminded.

"Mine too," Murphy agreed. He touched her cheek. "The color of your eyes."

His eyes lingered on her body. She seemed embarrassed at first but Amy allowed Murphy to continue glancing at her. His fingers began to draw imaginary lines on her shoulder. His fingertips soon trailed down her side. Murphy had always loved the delicate tan on the girl. She must have tanned properly the previous summer for she had no white, bathing suit lines. He still noticed the lighter tan near her waistline. His fingers began to trail back. Murphy's hand cupped her cheek and kissed her again – taking his time to playfully bite her lip.

_Okay here goes… _Amy thought. "So…" she began.

"So…" Murphy repeated. The grin on his face didn't fade away.

"I have no idea what to do or say from here," Amy admitted weakly.

Murphy leaned in to kiss her again. "Neither do I."

Amy felt Murphy's arm tug around her. She was allowed access to rest her head on his shoulder and wrap her arm around his waist. Murphy was letting out deep breaths; he had no idea what to say either.

"I hope I wasn't disappointing," Amy whispered. She had hoped that he wouldn't even hear her-

"Fuck, Amy, you are never disappointing," Murphy snapped. The change in his tone surprised Amy. He kissed her neck. "You were fuckin' great." Amy cleared her throat at the comment. "I mean…" Murphy corrected, "you were fantastic. Wonderful. Amy…" He reached for her hand. "I didn't know… well, until the time came… but you pressed me to continue…" His hand went to her chin so he could look at her. "You let me take your virginity?"

Amy rubbed her arm nervously and shifted uncomfortably in his arms. She sat up in bed, sitting Indian-style, and let her hands rest in her lap. "Yeah." She shrugged. "I _was_ a virgin."

Murphy sat up and leaned over to touch Amy's arm. "What made me the lucky guy?" He ran his hand through the mess of hair atop his head. "I had always assumed – well, not assumed – but if it was my guess that if you _weren't _a virgin… I always thought that you and that boyfriend of yours-"

"Eric?" Amy blurted out. It wasn't an insane thought. Of course Murphy would have thought she was sleeping with her boyfriend of four years. Amy nodded her head in understanding. "I know… Eric and I never… he's never pushed me to…" She stared back at Murphy. "I guess I just wasn't ready with him."

"Huh," Murphy asked aloud. "I feel bad. I always hated that kid just for that reason."

Amy laughed. "Well good. Now you can just hate yourself."

"Yes, I have been a bad man."

"Not bad," Amy smiled slyly. She started to crawl over the bed, toward Murphy, with her hands opposite his waist. "In fact, you've been very good." She tilted her head down to start kissing the lines of his abdomen. Murphy let out a small sigh.

He pulled Amy further up his body. With her completely on top of him, Murphy began to run his hands through her long, brown hair. Her chin rested on his chest. Amy stared seriously at Murphy. "I don't know what's happening."

"Neither do I love."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy had decided the previous day to attend school. But the _morning after_ with Murphy had caused Amy to seek some sort of counsel.

At the Joker's Card, a comic book store, Amy paced the _X-Men_ aisle with her friend Tish. Tish was the girl that had never been accepted properly among Amy's school friends. She was the "outsider" type – didn't care for school events or even school itself, mostly associated herself with her art class friends, and tended to "weird out" the others at school. Amy had met Tish in an Art History class back in sophomore year. The two's friendship appeared to be a secretly shared bond. Tish never invited Amy to join her social circle and vice versa. The two seemed to find solace in one another's quarrelling outside appearances.

"So you lost the V-card to a guy like nine years older than you?" Tish processed the information slowly. "That's pretty fuckin' sweet."

Amy rolled her eyes. "C'mon Tish. I need some help here. I normally keep pretty focused and I know what I want to do… but right now-"

"You're fucked," Tish laughed. She started to scroll through a few comic books on the shelf. "How's he feeling about this?"

She shrugged. "Okay. Probably handling the situation better than me."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Murphy and Connor lived in a building with tenants who were also from Ireland. The other similarity they shared was that no one properly paid the bill – some of them weren't legally allowed to be there.

Connor had finished taking his shower when Murphy waltzed inside.

"Where the fuck were you?" Connor asked. He began to put on a beat-up robe.

"I see you got to leave work early," Murphy noted. He came to his bed, kicked off his shoes, and began to remove his sweater.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"So the situation basically is…" Tish thought aloud, "You're eighteen years old. Lost the V-card to an older guy. You're still with your _oh-so-cute_ boyfriend of four years… oh, and you leave Boston in the summer for school." Tish glanced over at her friend. "Not lookin' good babe."

Amy leaned against one of the shelves. "God I'm fucked."

"Oh, yeah," Tish agreed. "Well I guess first thing's first… what about Eric?"

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"So I found out about somethin' interestin'," Murphy began nervously.

Connor: "What's that?"

Murphy: "Amy never slept with that boyfriend of hers."

"Oh good," Connor laughed. He started to light a cigarette. "Now we don't have to beat the shit out o' him."

"Right," Murphy laughed. "But umm… Connor…"

"Yes brother?" Connor asked suspiciously.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I do care for Eric," Amy sighed. "He's been great. I guess I've just been a bit overwhelmed with the whole college thing."

Tish: "Yeah, he's going to Loyola right? You two get to go to Illinois together. How fun."

"Swell confidence there," Amy said sarcastically. "You're not helping much."

"I'm still processing everything," Tish grinned. "The oh-so-perfect Amy Jensen's finally done the _big bad_. And it wasn't with her boyfriend. And an affair with an older man too? Like I said: Pretty fuckin' sweet."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I'M GONNA _KILL_ YOU _MOTHERFUCKER_!" Connor began to move toward Murphy quickly.

Murphy dodged the first swing. He jumped back, catching his footing, and raised his fists in defense.

"Now Connor calm down," Murphy advised. "Watch that blood pressure of yours."

Connor's face was red. He allowed his fists to fall beside him. But he didn't relax the grip.

"You mean to tell me…" Connor muttered slowly. "You fucked Amy? You…you de-flowered our little Amy?"

"De-flower?" Murphy blurted out while laughing. "Who uses tha' phrase anymore? You idiot. And little Amy? She's eighteen!"

"Just turned asshole!" Connor shouted. He approached Murphy again.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"But you like him, though, right?" Tish asked. "I've heard you talk about the guy and his brother for a few years. I don't see any harm. But come on now, you have to think realistically. After all, it's what you do best."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"You're the fuckin' idiot!" Connor snapped. He had calmed down in his intent to kill Murphy. "Wha' tha' fuck were you think', Murph? When did all this fuckin' start?"

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I just couldn't help myself after that," Amy thought back. "I was drunk. It was stupid at first. But we both wanted each other… it was obvious." She tucked her hair behind her ears. "We've been fighting with it too – separate and together – and I have no idea what's really going on in my head. Or his."

Tish flipped through a comic book as she stared at Amy. "Not the most romantic of tales. But still. Bittersweet."

"Tell me what I should do," Amy pleaded. "I don't even know where to start."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor sat at the edge of his bed. His face was buried in his hands and he continued to mutter curses under his breath.

"Connor," Murphy tried gently. "I need some help man. I got no idea what to do."

His twin looked up. Connor nodded slowly and said, "Too late to take it back. But I'm sure if given a second chance…" He eyed Murphy carefully. "You would have done the same thing."

"Right," Murphy nodded. "No regrets."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I don't regret it," Amy thought dreamily. The cat-ate-the-canary look crossed her face. "He was wonderful. The whole time. He was always careful with me and asking me if I was okay. He was perfect. Always had been." Amy sat down in the aisle.

Tish copied her movement and sat beside her friend. She touched Amy's shoulder in a comforting manner.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I can't even recall when it happened," Murphy thought aloud. "She'd always been beautiful in my eyes. But… when we kissed everything changed. I saw her differently. Her hair wasn't just hair it was… long…beautiful… the color of Hershey chocolates or somethin'. And her eyes… I've always loved green and now I can't help but lose myself in 'em… _ggggreat body…_ sweetest smile… smart, boy, is she smart. Fun. Outgoing. But she always holds a part of herself back…" Murphy stared at his brother.

Connor was trying to hold back a laugh. "What a faggot."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"He's soo hot," Amy giggled beside Tish. "Pretty blue eyes. Small smile. But he always gets me with that. I can't help myself around him. I just look at the guy and I want to jump his bones."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Murphy threw his shoe at Connor's head.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I think Murphy's thinkin' the same thing," Amy said slowly. "We can't help ourselves. But we're preparing for the inevitable…" She stared sadly at Tish. "I have to leave soon. That's the reality. And I _am_ younger than him. And I _do_ have a _boyfriend_. But I want him, nonetheless."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor rubbed his head. "Do ya love tha girl?" Murphy made no reply. Connor asked, "How ya feelin' then?"

Murphy shrugged. "I feel like I'm really going to miss her."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I guess there is no point," Amy realized. "I've cheated on my boyfriend… I've done the thing that caused my parents to send me here. I've been stupid with my actions. And thoughts."

Tish turned around. Her eyes searched through some of the comic books and finally she grabbed one. She handed it to Amy.

The cover had _X-Men's Gambit_ and_ Rogue_. The characters were wrapped in a sensuous embrace.

"You're definitely Gambit and Rogue. Gambit starts to like Rogue 'cause he can't touch her. But Gambit passes all that male-heat bullshit and he actually starts to love her. Despite their feelings, the two can't be together because they can't physically touch. They want each other but the relationship can't happen." Tish watched Amy study the cover carefully.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Murphy rubbed his face in his hands. "I really do care for Amy. I do. And you know that."

"I do know that," Connor agreed.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

It was near seven when Amy made her way back to McGinty's. She was looking forward to seeing Connor – and especially Murphy – for just a regular night.

But as Amy grew closer to the bar, she was surprised to see a figure emerge from the entrance.

Eric jogged toward her and crossed the street with a wide smile on his face. Amy's heart fell and she couldn't breathe normally.

He looked good. He was wearing a white sweater and a torn pair of jeans. Eric's shaggy, honey-colored hair blew against the autumn wind.

"Amy!" he called happily. He met Amy on the opposite street. "I wanted to surprise you."

"I'm surprised," Amy gasped with a fake smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Just stopped by to see you," Eric explained. "Doc said you left a note that you would be back at the bar around this time. I wanted to spend the evening with you. And he said he had no problem letting you miss another day of school-" Eric's eyes studied the cut lip and bruised forehead on his girlfriend's face. "You look better. How are you doing by the way?"

"F-f-fine," Amy stuttered.

Eric laughed. His long, slender arms wrapped around her waist. He was a foot taller than her so Amy had to tiptoe to ensure Eric didn't have to bend his back too much to lift her. "You sound like your uncle." He kissed her. At the same time, Amy had missed him yet she wanted to push him away. "So I'm taking you out for the evening." Eric rubbed his hands together. "We're going to go to dinner uptown. Then a carriage ride. Maybe a movie? And then ice cream or something. The night is yours, babe."

Amy nodded slowly. She stared back at McGinty's sign.

"Your friends will still be there when you get back," Eric ensured. "And your friends, those fraternal twins, told me to watch out for you for the evening."

There wasn't time to protest to the plan. Nor was there a proper excuse. Amy walked with Eric to his parked truck up the street. His arm was wrapped warmly around her. He talked about his schoolwork and how everyone had missed her. His voice faded in the background as Amy tried to picture Murphy saying "Watch out for her" to Eric.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

It was eleven-thirty when the young couple returned. Eric insisted he walk Amy inside.

The night had been fun. For the most part. At least Eric had had fun. He didn't seem to notice Amy zoning out during dinner or her lack of interest in the carriage ride. Amy thought that Eric could have had a date with a dummy-doll and he never would have noticed.

Amy held her breath as she and Eric walked inside.

Everyone was there.

The bar was noisy and filled with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Irish folk songs played in the background.

A crowd at the bar raised their glasses as Amy and Eric walked in. Amy waved her hand nervously. She hoped Eric would just leave.

"Hey, I'll go get us a couple of drinks," Eric offered.

"Eric, I'd love to hang more… but I'm kind of tired. And my body's a bit sore again. I could use a painkiller. And after that… I'm just a mindless drone." Amy had to shout in order for Eric to hear over the noise.

"Alright," Eric agreed. His smile seemed to reach his eyes as he bent down to kiss her goodnight.

From afar, off in one of the bar's booths, Murphy sat at the edge of the vinyl seat. He was beside Connor who was playing cards with another set of men.

The blue-eyed MacManus brother caught Eric kissing Amy. He appeared to be leaving and Amy seemed in a rush to get rid of him.

When Eric had left McGinty's, Amy suddenly ran up the stairs toward the apartment.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Murphy attempted to avoid the judgmental eyes of his brother. He had excused himself from the poker game and made his way to the upstairs apartment. Doc waved his hand at dark-haired man, thinking Murphy was probably going up to escape the bar's noise.

He couldn't help but stare at the leftover blood stains from the wooden steps. Murphy, Doc, and Connor had all together cleaned and scrubbed at the floors. His slow walk reminded him of the painful image of a beaten-Amy leaning against the white tub on the bathroom floor. Murphy was also reminded of his fantasy of finding the Russians who had attacked Amy and kill them.

The thoughts had to be pushed away for the moment. Murphy wanted to see Amy. He wasn't sure what to say or what to do when he saw her.

But Murphy had to figure something out.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy was sitting on the floor of her bedroom. She had changed into a set of black-gray-white checkered pajama pants and a pink zip-up sweater. Her hair was tied up into a messy ponytail with a few strands dangling beside her cheeks.

She was flipping through a photo album Doc had given to her for her thirteenth birthday. Upon receiving the album, Doc had already placed a few pictures of Amy and bar-friends. The first couple of images were of Amy, as a young child, sitting atop a bar stool, with a crowd surrounding her. A young Connor and Murphy MacManus were part of the group as well. Connor and Murphy appeared in a lot of the pictures in Amy's album. The brothers weren't just in McGinty's-photos either. They had attended Amy's track meet in freshmen year – there was a picture of Amy, tired from a recent relay, with Connor and Murphy by her side. There was a picture of Amy sitting in the driver's seat of Rocco's car with Murphy sitting in the passenger seat. It was her first driving lesson. Amy was smiling while Murphy had his hands across his eyes. Amy laughed at the memory.

She flipped through a few more pages. Her eyes began to find more pictures from high school: sophomore and junior year homecomings, track meets, and award acceptances. So many of her friends were in all of the pictures, especially Eric.

Murphy peaked through the open door of Amy's bedroom. She didn't notice he was there until he knocked on the doorframe.

"Can I come in?" he asked gently.

"_Aye_," Amy imitated in a terrible Irish accent. "Just lookin' through a few old photos."

Murphy walked inside and took his spot beside Amy on the floor. He let his legs spread out before him and his arms were slumped in his lap.

"It's amazing to think of my childhood and upbringing," Amy thought aloud. "If my parents hadn't had their own issues… I would have grown up in California, going to a preppy, _90210_-type school, and probably going to UCLA or something like that. I would have been a completely different person." The young woman continued to flip through a couple of pages. "And here I am… a girl who grew up in a _bar_ in _South Boston_…" She laughed reluctantly. "Funny how things work out."

As he nodded slowly Murphy reached over for the photo album. He studied a few of the familiar memories and smiled. "I can't even believe I watched you grow up. When Connor and I came here… we just always figured we'd come to America, work, eat, drink, and be merry." His eyes turned to Amy who was staring at him softly. "You turned into this… _impeccable _woman over the years. And I knew it from the moment I met you. You're the girl that can do anything. The girl who can overcome any obstacle." He closed the photo album. "Regardless of where or how you grew up… I believe there is no way you could have turned out but nothin' but perfect."

Amy bit her lip as she smiled. She brought her knees close to her chest and rested her cheek against her leg.

"I'm not perfect," she sighed. "Far from it."

"No one's perfect, love." Murphy reached over to rub her knee. "But I fancy that you'r ethe closest thing to it."

Amy closed her eyes. Murphy couldn't tell if she was physically or emotionally tired. Was she tired from being out all day or was she just tired of going through the motion?

"I've dreamed about you since I was a kid," Amy admitted slowly. "I always wished I was one of those women that you would go home with. I didn't care that you would probably disappear by the time they woke up…" She opened her eyes. "And my dream came true… but something was different… you were there when I woke up." Amy lifted her head and turned to Murphy. "Of all the great memories I've had here… _you_ were the best. But the sucky part is… you gotta wake up from a dream sometime." Amy leaned over and pressed her lips against Murphy's. He accepted fully and couldn't stop himself from wrapping his hand around her neck. Murphy could feel Amy's weight shifting – she was crawling into his lap. She straddled the man before her and Amy could feel the familiar heat increasing between herself and Murphy. Murphy opened his eyes placed his hands on Amy's hips. Her hands were still up the sleeves of his black T-shirt. "Now we just have to accept the reality of it all."

Murphy nodded. He placed his hands respectfully on Amy's thighs and bit his lip. He looked back up at Amy, whose face was still close to his, and whispered, "I only wished you were a few years older. And if the current situation wasn't so… difficult." He leaned his face closer to Amy's. "But things can't always be easy, right?"

"Guess so," Amy breathed.

She could feel herself leaning farther into Murphy. Their lips would soon touch again-

But Amy's head turned suddenly.

Connor was standing in the doorway. His mouth was parted in surprise. But due to his silence, Amy realized that he had been made aware of everything.

"Sorry to interrupt," Connor finally said. "But Amy, love… your parents are downstairs."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: I wish I could do a few shout-outs – but thanks to everyone for reviewing! All your comments help! Please comment more! I hope everyone has a great holiday and Thanksgiving!


	6. Chapter 6 Running

**Chapter Six: Running**

Connor and Murphy walked down to the bar. They realized that the crowds had ceased their noise out of interest: Amy's parents were in town.

The MacManus brothers had never met Amy's parents but they shared a common feeling: _Hate those motherfuckers._ Connor and Murphy had never known their own father. Noah MacManus had left before the two had been born. All they had of their father's was a few of his belongings, a journal, and a Bible that had more details of Noah's life written in it than the journal. The men understood that their father had left due to some "duty" (as their mother had recalled). Mother MacManus never spoke of her estranged husband so Connor and Murphy had never had an interest in the man.

It dumfounded Connor to meet the parents that let their daughter grow up without them. He knew that Amy had had a good upbringing – and Doc had been an excellent guardian – but Connor didn't agree that giving up Amy had been the best solution to fix the marriage.

Samantha and Hank Jensen were sitting at the end of the bar. Doc spoke quietly with his sister while Hank avoided the eyes of the crowd.

Amy looked like her mother. Samantha had dark-colored hair and green eyes, like Amy's, and had the same, circular shape in the face. She was as tall as her husband, Connor guessed, as he eyed the couple sitting at the table.

Murphy pursed his lips at the sight of them. Amy had never spoken much of her parents… _Probably 'cause she never got to know or rememba them… fuckers…_

Doc lifted his eyes in curiosity when the boys approached. "Where's Amy?" the bartender asked.

"Wanted to change up," Connor informed the group. His eyes darted to a blonde-haired man – Amy's father.

"She'll be down in a second," Murphy finished.

"B-b-boys," Doc waved his hand, "this is my dear, little sister Samantha. And her husband, Hank."

Samantha waved her hand at the men. "Nice to meet you."

"This is Connor… and Murphy Ma-Ma-MacManus," Doc continued.

Amy's mother smiled. "Oh yes, Amy mentioned you in her letters. You're close friends."

"Aye," Connor grinned. "And you're the parents? How is California?"

"Warm," Hank noted.

Murphy glared the man down.

"So, came to surprise Amy?" Murphy asked sarcastically. "You should be proud. She's going to Northwestern. I heard she's getting a pretty damn good partial scholarship as well."

"She's a smart girl," Connor said to Samantha.

"Amy was always a smart girl," Samantha sighed. Her eyes lit up suddenly. "Oh, what's taking her so long?"

"Give her a minute honey," Hank touched her shoulder. "She's just nervous. We haven't seen her in a few years-"

"It's been four years," Murphy snapped. "And it was _you_, Samantha, that came. And you only spent a few hours with her before you flew back to San Francisco." Murphy turned his cold glance to Hank. "Where the fuck have you been?"

Hank rose from his seat. His wife protested at his motion but Hank didn't seem to care.

The man's eyes, however, grew fearful when he realized that Connor and Murphy were being backed up by several people in the bar.

Rocco, among the group, stood behind Connor and Murphy.

"Alan, dear," Samantha turned to Doc. "Please-"

"Samantha love," Doc stared at her tenderly. "These men are very protective of Amy. I shan't stay in da way."

"I just came to see my daughter," Hank defended himself. "I wanted to be there for when she takes a look at that savings account of hers. And we wanted to discuss college finances and all."

"Sit your ass down, Hank, she'll be here in a minute," Connor barked.

"I'll go up and see what's takin' her so long," Rocco announced. He flew up the stairs and everyone in the bar could hear his calling of Amy's name. It didn't take long before he came back down and winced. "She's not up there."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy ran.

She didn't bother to change out of her PJs. After adding on a pair of black Converses, Amy had escaped through the bathroom window and down the fire escape.

Her hair whipped painfully around her cold cheeks as she ran. Her attire wasn't exactly cold-weather-appropriate. But her body couldn't stop itself. Her shoes hit the sidewalk harder and harder as Amy continued. She had lost track of how far she had run.

But it didn't matter. Amy hoped that she could just run forever. Or at least run to the point where she would get so lost that there was no point in going back.

Amy got mad at herself. She normally handed tough situations well. Her friends would describe her as the tidy, organized, strong-willed type. But lately Amy realized she was digging herself a deeper grave and she was doing a good job at not tackling her obstacles appropriately.

She was happy that she wasn't crying.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I c-c-c-called Eric. He's out lookin'," Doc informed the group. The old man watched as Connor, Murphy, and Rocco put on their petticoats.

"I'll take a look at the park near her school," Connor announced. "Rocco check the bridge. Murphy-"

"I got a few places in mind," Murphy called as he exited the bar. He had agreed with the others to call or text if Amy had been found or heard from.

Samantha wept at the bar while Hank urged her to take a sip of the martini Doc had fixed.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She had somehow gone as far as past the Longfellow Bridge. Amy knew if she stayed that Connor or Murphy would look for her there.

She wasn't in the mood to be found.

Her entire body was soaked in a cold sweat. Amy's legs were numb and her knees were aching. She pressed forward, taking a moment to lean against the bridge, catch her breath, and then Amy continued her run.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Two hours had past. It had started to rain which made Doc worry even more. He hadn't heard back from anyone; it was no use to call Amy because she had left her cell phone in her bedroom.

Samantha and Hank stayed afterhours at McGinty's. Most of the bar had left – some left in the search for Amy while others left out of respect (to give Amy's parents and Doc a noise-free panic).

Rocco had returned – he had given Connor and Murphy his car and the two were searching the city into its great depths. Rocco told Doc he would wait on the roof of McGinty's - Amy's favorite spot - to keep a look out. Doc handed Rocco an umbrella from across the counter and Rocco disappeared up the stairs to the apartment.

Doc turned back to his sister.

"Samantha… go to that hotel. Get some rest. I'll call when she turns up," Doc suggested.

"I can't," Samantha bit her lip. "I can't go until I know she's okay. She's so angry, I can't blame her…" She stared at her husband. Hank reached for her hand and started to massage it comfortingly.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy was tired – so tired that she had fallen to her knees in the middle of the sidewalk. The rain pounding down didn't help.

Her thin pajamas had been completely soaked once the rain had started. She had been almost grateful for the sudden change in the weather. She had sweated so much that the rain helped her feel clean again.

But her feet were in pain and Amy feared she wouldn't find the strength to walk or run back to McGinty's.

She unzipped the tiny pocket of her wet hoodie. Luckily there had been a dime and a few other coins in the pocket.

She found a payphone and a sanctuary in the dry, glass box.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor drove past Amy's school again. Murphy was in the passenger seat with his face in his hands. They had covered a lot of ground in two hours and Murphy couldn't think of any more places to look for Amy.

A cell phone in the cupholder rang. It was Connor's.

He picked the cell phone up in his hand, stared at the unknown number on the screen, and answered: "'Ello?"

Murphy watched as Connor sighed. "Fuck Amy," Connor breathed. "You had us all fuckin' worried. Now where are ye lass?" He nodded his head. "Alrighty, we're comin' ta get ya. Wait there. Should be twenty minutes."

"Thank God," Murphy sighed as Connor spun the car around on a deserted road.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Doc, Samantha, and Hank were still at the bar's counter when Rocco came down the steps. Despite the umbrella he had gotten wet standing on the roof.

"Just saw my car pull up – they're all here," Rocco told Doc.

Moments later Amy stepped inside. Connor and Murphy followed close behind.

The girl had Murphy's coat wrapped around her shoulders. Amy looked tired, cold, and extremely wet. Her eyes met her parents first.

Doc came from behind the bar. He ran toward Amy and grasped his niece in his arms. Doc kissed her cheek and stared at her sternly. "Wha' tha fuck were you _FUCK! ASS!_ thinkin'?"

Amy shook her head. Her voice was quiet and shaky as she spoke: "Sorry. I just… had to go for a run." Her eyes went to her parents.

Samantha seemed frightened of her daughter. It was her grown-up appearance that scared Samantha. It was the first time she had realized that Samantha had missed out on Amy's growing up.

"Amy," Samantha smiled brightly.

"Hi Mom," Amy said in a monotone voice. She turned to her father. "Dad." Amy turned to Murphy, gave back his coat, and began to make her way toward the stairs.

"Amy," Samantha called, "please baby let's talk."

She turned around. Amy's composition revealed a lack of interest in her parents' being in the bar.

"Go home, Mom," Amy said plainly. "Just go."

"Aimes Daniela Jensen," Samantha snapped, "you come back here and speak to your father and I in a better manner."

"Hmm…" Amy crooned. She took a step forward to the stairs. "I'll make this easy on you. You're the parents. I'm the offspring. Dad: you're the benefactor. Mom: you're the idiot woman that stayed with a man that will probably never be satisfied." The room grew silent. "I want nothing from you. If you want to finance me through college, so be it. Other than the business deal we all agreed to when I moved here… we have nothing to discuss."

Her wet shoes squeaked on the first step. Amy stopped walking at the sound of her mother stomping her heel against the bar floor.

"Do not walk away from me!" Samantha shouted.

Amy turned around with an emotionless glance. "You walked away first. And I'm not walking away, Mom. I'm running."

Hank couldn't say anything. His wife turned to him, desperate, hoping that he would find something to say. But the man couldn't bring himself to defend his wife or himself. His eyes went to Amy. He gave her a slight nod. Amy nodded back.

And the eighteen-year-old girl was gone up the stairs.

Samantha had told Doc that they wouldn't leave yet. "I want to talk with her… once she's calmed down," Samantha had said as she and Hank exited the bar.

Doc wasn't sure whether he wanted to go upstairs yet. Murphy and Connor offered to go up and check on her.

Connor allowed Murphy to go up first.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy hadn't bothered to remove her clothes or change. She was in bed when Murphy found her.

Murphy eyed the shaking girl before him. She didn't seem to acknowledge his existence.

He wanted Amy into a fresh set of clothes. Murphy had silently helped and encouraged Amy to change. He turned his back respectively when Amy had finally decided to change into gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt.

Murphy had taken a towel from Amy's bathroom. Kneeling before her on the bed, Murphy placed the towel on Amy's head and attempted to dry her.

Amy had said nothing. Her eyes never met his.

Connor had soon joined. He had told Murphy and Amy that Doc was having a drink with Rocco.

No one made a reply.

No one spoke.

Connor topped the somewhat wet bed sheets with a set of new, dry ones. Taking Amy by the elbows, Connor and Murphy had gotten Amy into bed, comfortable, warm and dry.

They each took a spot next to her. Connor rested on his propped up elbow while Murphy was on his back.

Amy, silent, reached her hands out. Connor and Murphy each took a hand.

And she cried.

Connor pressed his lips to the back of Amy's head. Murphy, facing the weeping teenager, rested his free hand beneath her wet cheek.

When Amy had fallen asleep in Murphy's arms, Connor took his leave. He left the room quietly and stared back to see Murphy rubbing Amy's arm gently.

It was a curious sight to Connor. He had seen the affection shared between Murphy and Amy many times. Connor himself had even had his moments with Amy…

But this was different. Amy found comfort in the arms of his brother. Connor watched Murphy carefully… Murphy never took his eyes off the sleeping girl.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: I hope to update as soon as I can. Reviews MUCH appreciated! Thanks everyone for commenting and reading! HAPPY THANKSGIVING!


	7. Chapter 7 Christmas Cheer

Ice Nymph: glad you're enjoying! I've read a few fanfics with the classic "Mary Sues." Trying to avoid that as best as I can.

Anne la Jordanie: thanks for the helpful note! I had read before [ in another fanfic] that the coats they wore were "petticoats." I always thought they were pea coats. Should have stuck with my gut haha. Thanks again!

kungfupandabear: glad you're liking it!

Katy: I love your reviews so much! You inform me of everything I need to hear – constructive criticism, very helpful comments, and I like that you're enjoying it! I definitely want to get more in-depth with Amy's mind and surroundings when I get to the point of the story when it takes place during _Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day_.

Author's Note: Thanks everyone for the reviews! And I welcome all positive/negative/informative comments! I'm getting really anxious to speed through the story, so I'm trying to calm myself down (haha).

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Chapter Seven: Christmas Cheer**

The Thanksgiving holiday had gone by uneventfully. While it hadn't been an Irish tradition, Doc used to have a formal Thanksgiving dinner for Amy's sake. Doc had held his usual dinner above the bar, invited his closest friends, and had used the opportunity to get Amy to talk to her parents.

The plan had failed. Murphy and Connor's presence caused a lot of tension between themselves and Amy's parents. Rocco had gotten drunk early – again – and his songs had disrupted the evening.

Amy didn't show up to the dinner. She had informed everyone that she would be at Eric's house for dinner.

Things appeared to have gone back to the normal routine. Amy and Murphy's relationship reverted back to the "simpler," uncomplicated friendship they had once shared. The eighteen-year-old continued to lose herself in schoolwork and extra credit. Her mind was always on Northwestern and Doc – and everyone else at the bar – seemed to see less and less of Amy. The time with her friends and boyfriends waned too.

_Christmas Eve…_

Murphy missed her… He took a long drag of his cigarette and took a great gulp from his beer. The bar was filled with laughter and the sounds of Irish folk singing. The bar was covered in Christmas decorations – Amy's doing – and the place itself looked like Santa's Workshop. The image of green reefs and arrangements of white and different-colored Christmas lights stained the eyes.

Connor joked with Rocco, poked fun at Doc, and played a game card game with a beautiful woman sitting on his opposite side. Murphy ignored his twin.

Amy was delivering drinks to a few people. Murphy met her glance and smiled. The girl smiled back, shrugged, and continued on with the mingling.

Suddenly Connor had left Murphy's side. He watched his brother grab Amy around the waist and spin her. Connor politely asked the girl to dance and she accepted the invitation.

The two danced in a formal waltz. The bar grew slightly quieter as everyone watched. A few of the men in the bar began to ask their wives to dance too…

_Amy was thirteen. Connor was teaching her how to dance. Instead of properly following his directions, Amy stepped onto his boots. She danced as Connor danced._

_Murphy watched from the bar. Rocco was sitting beside him and blew a puff of smoke at his face._

"_Ask the girl to dance you little shit," Rocco laughed._

_Murphy stood up…_

Murphy got up from the stool. He walked across the bar floor and tapped Connor on the shoulder. His twin turned, smiled, and bowed to Amy.

"Thank you for the dance, love," Connor grinned.

Amy curtsied mockingly. Murphy noted how beautiful she looked in a red cashmere sweater. The rosary he and Connor had bought for her dangled around her neck. Her hair was curly – a rare sight – and her dark green eyes had Christmas lights in them.

Murphy took Amy into his arms. She accepted, smiled, and Amy giggled as Murphy began to spin her.

"You still rememba how ta dance?" Murphy sniggered.

Amy narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "I remember _everything_ you guys ever taught me." She laughed.

Murphy pulled Amy closer to his chest. She tilted her head back to stare at him fully. Amy's small smile grew wider. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

He nodded. Murphy: "You've been busy."

Amy took hold of Murphy's hand and squeezed it. "Yeah…" she sighed. "I'm even on Christmas break and I'm still doing schoolwork."

"Aye, Doc said you went to your guidance counselor before the semesta ended… asked for your Spring Schedule and permission to go 'head and get your textbooks. Pretty… nerdy and freakishly organized of ya."

Amy laughed. "Yeah. I went ahead and got a lot of reading done." She widened her eyes. "I guess I am a freak."

"A bit," Murphy winked. "It's why I like ya."

Murphy twirled Amy. "Did Doc also tell you" Amy returned back to Murphy's arms "that I've set up an early orientation and school tour for Northwestern? During Spring Break in March – the week of St. Patty's – I'll be going to Edison to tour the school and look at apartments and all that."

"Wow," Murphy sighed, "this whole college thing is hittin' ya fast."

Amy nodded sullenly. "Yeah, I didn't want it to start this soon. But I guess it's better for me to go and get everything settled."

"And missin' St. Patty's? You oughta be ashamed of yourself."

"Oh I am."

Murphy pulled Amy closer. He whispered in her ear "I really am gonna miss ya Aimes." He kissed her cheek. "You're gonna kick some major ass out there."

Amy nodded against his lips.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy dragged Murphy upstairs and through the bathroom window. Murphy laughed as Amy pulled at his arms to get him to the roof.

She laughed too when they finally made it. Amy looked up at the stars and then back at Murphy.

"It's fuckin' freezin' out here, love, c'mon-" Murphy rubbed his arms. The black sweater wasn't enough to keep him from catching his death.

But he caught Amy in his arms…

She had thrown herself at him. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her arms around his shoulders. The feel of her curly hair tickling his cheek made Murphy grin as his lips collapsed with Amy's. She seemed desperate for his touch. Her lips were rough on his – forcing her tongue into mouth. Murphy accepted – of course – and returned the same amount of desperation. He had barely seen or spoken to Amy in their usual form.

And he had definitely missed kissing her…

His hand rested on the back of her head. Amy's body began to slide down his and her feet were back on the flat rooftop of McGinty's.

She had to tiptoe to keep Murphy's face firmly planted on hers. Amy wasn't sure if it was the cold or Murphy himself that was making her body tremble.

Murphy's arms held Amy tight in his hold. His hand slid down to the lower end of her back.

He wanted her. Murphy couldn't deny it. With each kiss he seemed to press his lips harder against hers. The soft, gentle sounds erupting from Amy's throat caused Murphy to go insane with his touch…

His hands roamed her back and soon his hands were gripping at the back pockets of her tight jeans.

"_Amy_…" Murphy growled. His lips finally escaped Amy's. He began to kiss her chin and neck…

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Murphy watched her dress from the bed. He was naked beneath Amy's bed sheets and smiled as he watched her put her jeans and sweater back on.

Amy approached the vanity mirror to fix her appearance.

He got up and Murphy only bothered to put his jeans and shoes back on. When he was finished, Murphy walked to Amy, stood behind her, and snaked his arms around her waist.

Murphy kissed her neck and Amy's eyes closed. She smiled and leaned back into the naked chest.

"Hurry up and put your clothes back on," Amy advised through a giggle. "People may wonder about what we're doing-"

"Or what we did," Murphy smiled slyly.

Amy turned to face him. She placed her hands on either side of Murphy's face. He leaned down to kiss her and Amy's gasp almost made Murphy tear her clothes off again.

She turned back to the mirror. Amy fixed her curly hair into a black clip. With her hair up Amy sprayed a bit of vanilla body mist on her neck and wrists.

Murphy was pulling his sweater back on and stretched his arms out.

Amy flew to him. She began kissing the part of the neck right below Murphy's ear. The man laughed and Murphy pulled away to stare down at the young woman.

"Neva realized you were so feisty," Murphy said.

Amy raised her eyebrows. "What? Little ol' innocent me?" Amy grinned devilishly. "I have no idea what you're talking about-"

"What the fuck are you doing?" a voice shouted at them.

Murphy and Amy turned in unison to see Connor standing at the entrance of Amy's room.

Connor carefully eyed the bed – the comforter and bed sheets were in a muck – and quickly turned his glance away.

"Doc was jus' askin' about where the two of you went," Connor stepped further inside. "So?"

Murphy shook his head at his brother. "Conn, don't worry 'bout it. We were jus' headin' down-"

"I'm sure you fuckin' were!" Connor snapped.

Amy looked back from brother to brother. "Wait… Connor…you…"

"I know, love," Connor said gently. His voice was gentle but his gaze seemed harsh. "Talk about Christmas Cheer. The two o' ya gotta stop this. I don't understand."

"Not your fuckin' business," Murphy barked. He walked toward Connor and stood in front of Amy.

"You're my brother, and that's my little Amy," Connor pointed at the stunned girl. "And the two of ya gotta be thinkin' about this intelligently. Wha'? You guys like each other? Or is this just a casual thing?"

"Well, your _'little Amy'_ is a big girl now, Connor," Amy defended. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And this is between Murphy and myself. Please, don't worry…"

Connor shook his head. "I have ta worry love." He looked back at Murphy. "I don't want to see anyone getting' in ta trouble. Especially you, Amy. You got a big future ahead of ya. And if Doc found out…"

"He won't," Murphy tried softly, "just please brother… just stay out of it." He looked back at Amy. "We're… figuring this out. Slowly. But surely."

"Aye," Connor looked at the two guilty faces in front of him. "I'm gonna tell Doc the two o' ya was watchin' _Charlie Brown_ or somethin'." I'm gonna hang at the kitchen. You two talk a bit and we'll all head down togetha."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"I tried…" Amy rolled her eyes. "I tried to do it… but he got so defensive. And he cried. Boy did he cry."

Amy and Murphy sat at the edge of the bed. The door was open a crack and the two could see Connor sitting in the living room waiting on them.

"Eric begged…" Amy continued her story. "He begged that we could work this out. I just… broke down… and I told him that we would try." She stared at the older man sitting next to her. "I think it'll be easier when the holidays are done with."

"You're gonna try and break up with him again?" Murphy inquired.

Amy rested her head on her propped-up knee. "Yeah."

Murphy nodded his head. "Amy… maybe you should try-" Amy stared at Murphy questionably "…you should try and work things out with him."

"Why?" Amy laughed sarcastically. "I've been done with him for months… hell, even a year or so." She stared back at Murphy. "Breaking up with Eric… it's not because of you. I've accepted the fact that I'm leaving for Illinois for school and all… and this…" Amy brought her face closer to Murphy's. "I'm not looking past this any farther than today… but I can't stop thinking about you… and I miss you like crazy."

"I've missed you too, love," Murphy sighed. His cheek rested against Amy's head. "Reality keeps sinkin' in."

Amy nodded. "It sucks."

"Aye, it does."

Amy looked up – hope found in her eyes. "I will be visiting," she suggested. "Not weekly… but holidays. And breaks. I'd be stupid and naive to ask that you just wait till I'm older or out of school… but I'd like to know that when I come back… you'll be here."

"I don't plan on goin' anywhere love," Murphy assured her. "But I can't promise anythin'. And you can't either. You'll go to school, meet a guy-"

"And every moment I'm with him…" Amy whispered, "I'll be thinking of you…"

Murphy held Amy's face in his hand. His thumb stroked her cheek and Murphy felt his face growing closer to Amy's…

"This has to stop, Amy…" Murphy whispered sadly. "You've got a lot comin' up. School and all. And I… I can't be a distraction." He placed a small kiss on her lips. When he pulled back Murphy bit his lower lip.

"You weren't a distraction," Amy smiled. "I always did like thinking of you."

Murphy smiled back. He stood up and offered his hand to Amy.

She took it. Amy stood up and stared up into the face of the man she knew she would always dream of.

"I can't promise that I won't jump you again," Amy threatened with an innocent-looking smile. "You have a very, merry Christmas."

"Amy…" Murphy warned. "I mean it… no more-"

Amy moved so close and fast to Murphy that her sudden, closer proximity took him off guard.

She tiptoed up, and with her lips just centimeters from his, Amy whispered, "This wasn't the last time, Murphy. You know it." Her tongue gently slid between her lips and she licked Murphy's upper lip – the tip of her tongue nipped the tip of Murphy's nose.

"Merry Christmas, Murphy," Amy giggled. She opened her door and Murphy watched the girl skip toward Connor.

Murphy scratched the back of his head and sighed. Amy didn't cease to surprise him.

He couldn't help but smile to himself. Murphy didn't care about Amy breaking poor Eric's heart. He only cared about her…

He prayed quietly before he left Amy's room: _"Mother Mary… watch over Amy. Guide her and protect her…"_ Murphy crossed himself. "Take care o' my girl."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: this was just a short, quick update. Hope you all enjoyed it! The next chapter will take place during the St. Patrick Day's scene in the first _Boondock Saints_ film…

REVIEWS MUCH APPRECIATED


	8. Chapter 8 St Patty's Day

quick Author's Note: when looking at scenes that take place in the movie, please be aware that certain actions/dialogue are different since this is obviously alternate-universe-_Boondock Saints_ due to Amy being a part of the story.

Everyone enjoy!

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Chapter Eight: Loss of Innocence / St. Patty's Day**

_Friday, March 12, 1999._

Connor MacManus, since his arrival in the United States, had never called a woman back after sleeping with her. When his interest was sex – that was it. He never took advantage of a woman; Connor was always careful that the woman (or women) understood the ground rules. It was rare for him to even spend the whole night at her apartment.

Murphy used to be the same way. He damned the women around him and, more importantly, Murphy damned himself. The women around him seemed more adamant to hang around him or to offer to buy him a drink or two. Connor was definitely in the "mode" tonight. He hung around the pool table with a girl at each side of him. He played along the usual routine: jokes, drinks, compliments, flirting, and more drinks.

A woman, whose name he had already forgotten, was telling Murphy her life story.

He tipped the large glass of beer to his lips. Murphy nodded and raised his eyebrows in mock amusement. He wasn't in the mood to be rude tonight.

Earlier in the day Amy had left for Illinois. Right after school had let out, Murphy, Connor and Doc had taken her to the airport. She was starting her Spring Break by leaving for Edison, Illinois early and getting a head-start on all her school stuff. Depending on how the schedule went, Amy had promised she would be back early in the week to try and celebrate St. Patty's Day.

The woman sitting next to him – _Margaret, Mary Margaret, Maggie?_ – was laughing at a joke she had told. Murphy didn't laugh with her. His disinterest was becoming obvious but it made the woman only try harder…

He missed her.

Murphy hated himself more and more. Amy's special Christmas promise had remained firm.

At least twice a week Murphy found himself in Amy's bedroom. The young girl was learning more about sex from her experienced partner; Amy was also finding a lot more enjoyment and fun in sex.

Murphy and Amy would sometimes hide in the storage room (for the beer and liquor) and make out. Their kissing would sometimes lead them to do more, but they could never bring themselves to have sex (out of fear of Doc or someone else walking in).

Murphy had told Amy once that he felt like he was taking away her innocence. Amy had shrugged it off. "I'm eighteen. It's about time," had been her response.

Amy was still the same person, yet Murphy was learning more about this new, sexually active Amy. The girl loved sex – and she especially loved having sex with Murphy. Amy had finally broken up with Eric and her attention seemed to be beamed only on the Irishman.

After every rendezvous, Murphy and Amy would sit quietly together and talk about Amy's college plans and the realization that soon their special _partnership_ would have to come to an end. Amy always agreed but she never stopped teasing Murphy with dirty text messages or enticing him by wearing more-revealing-clothing.

And he missed her… It wasn't just the sex. Murphy knew he was capable of having sex with anyone he wanted. Hell, the woman blabbing about her ex-boyfriends was a perfect target.

But Murphy couldn't bring himself to even flirt politely.

_I'm fucked…_ Murphy realized. He began to light a cigarette but the nameless-woman took care of that for him.

"Honey, you seem like you're zoning out tonight," the woman said. Her curly red hair was obnoxious to Murphy. "What can I do to help?"

"Keep talkin' lass, your voice is so… relaxing," Murphy lied.

The woman seemed pleased. She took Murphy's comment and began to talk more about pointless things…

Murphy felt at his pocket to see if he had missed a text message on his cell.

"Murph!" Connor's voice echoed in Murphy's ear. Murphy turned to see Connor approach him with a beautiful woman on each arm. The grin on Connor's face was priceless. "Oh dear brot'er, I'm headin' to the hotel where these lovely ladies are stayin' at. Care to join?" He nodded toward the blonde on his right. "Her name's Rachel." He turned to the dark-haired girl on his left. "And this is Yvonne."

Murphy nodded politely to the women. "Aye, nice to meet ya there ladies." He turned to the nameless-woman. "This here is… Marg…"

"Mary Beth Margaret," the woman beside Murphy pouted.

"That all your first name dearie?" Murphy asked.

Offended, Mary Beth Margaret left her stool and stomped away.

Yvonne left Connor's side and stood next to Murphy.

"C'mon babe…" Yvonne whispered. "Come out with us."

"Aye, separate rooms," Connor suggested, "we aren't aimin' this to be a group thing."

Murphy laughed. "Aye. Not into that sort of thing." Yvonne placed her hand on his shoulder. Murphy took her hand into his and kissed her knuckles. "Sorry dear, not tonight."

"Tomorrow?" Yvonne said as she bit her lip.

"Not any night I'm afraid," Murphy replied. He raised his glass to his brother and the two women. "To your night."

Connor nodded and welcomed back Yvonne to his free side. "Aye brother, have a good night."

"You do da same," Murphy grinned and took a sip of his beer.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

_St. Patrick's Day_

Amy had told Doc that she wouldn't be back until the end of the week.

She had lied.

The eighteen-year-old exited the airport with a suitcase rolling behind her and a duffel bag slung over her arm. She had freshened up in the women's restroom – fixed her make-up, changed into a fresh shirt (a long-sleeved off-the-shoulder green shirt – she had made sure it was green otherwise Rocco would use the excuse to pinch her), and pulled her hair back into a green clip.

It was getting close to midnight and Amy knew McGinty's would still be hosting a couple of people.

The trip had been exciting. Amy had toured the campus and had already signed a lease for an apartment starting in August. She had met a lot of other transfers and had already gotten a feel for the city of Edison.

But she was glad to be back. When Amy had been alone in her hotel room, she had cried – a little – because she missed the sounds of the bar and Doc's stuttering voice. Not hearing "fuck" or "ass" every couple of minutes had irked her.

Amy had successfully hailed a cab and the driver politely loaded her baggage into the trunk.

She climbed into the back and sighed. Amy rubbed her cold hands together and waited patiently for the driver to return. After she gave the driver directions, Amy's smile grew wider at the thought of entering the bar in about thirty minutes.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy tiredly dragged her baggage along her side. She could hear laughter erupting from the bar's closed doors.

She stepped inside to find the whole row at the bar occupied by six men. Connor, Murphy, and Rocco – Amy's favorites – were there too.

Doc was the first to notice her arrival.

"Amy!" the old man shouted.

The row of men turned and they all began to shout for her. Amy dropped her bags by the door and ran first to Doc behind the bar.

She leaped into the man's arms and Doc welcomed her fully.

"You said you wouldn't be b-b-back till the weekend," Doc asked.

Amy pulled away. She couldn't help from smiling. "I wanted to surprise you," Amy said. She turned to the familiar, friendly faces gleaming at her. "I missed you guys."

"See, I always knew you loved me," Rocco winked at Amy. "It's time we tell Doc the truth babe."

"And what truth is that, _babe_?" Amy sniggered.

"That we're getting' hitched an' headin' to Vegas!" Rocco shouted. He held his arms out in defense as Doc threw ice at him.

Amy laughed and leaned against Doc's arm.

"Aye, how was Illinois love?" Connor asked.

"You had a quick trip," Murphy noted.

Amy couldn't pull her eyes away. She had missed Murphy. Her lover wore one of those sweaters that she adored on him. It was a bit too big for him but Amy didn't mind imagining his body beneath the heavy fabric. She turned to look back at Connor – nice brown sweater and a curious grin.

Amy: "Saw a lot. Learned a lot. I set up a lease at an apartment complex in the area. Just a five minute walk from the campus. The manager at the apartment said its okay for me to send my stuff in the summer and they'll leave it in the apartment for me." She sighed and rested her head tiredly on Doc's shoulder. "I'm glad to be back."

"You weren't gone long, love," Connor laughed.

"Aye," Amy mocked his accent, "but so much happened these last few days. I was just tired of the whole orientation-new-stuff process. I missed home."

"And we missed you sweetheart," Doc patted his niece's head. "And just in time to celebrate St. P-P-Patty's wit' us."

Rocco raised his drink in the air. "To Amy!" the rest of the men followed his lead, "may she get her ass out of Southie as soon as fucking possible!"

The men all cheered and drank.

Amy turned to Murphy. She couldn't escape his gaze and all Amy wanted to do was jump into his arms.

Instead Amy walked around the bar and came to Connor. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder playfully and Connor pulled the girl onto his lap. He tilted the girl back and Connor began to place kisses on her cheek.

"Missed you Aimes my dearest love," Connor laughed in her ear.

"And I you my dearest Connor," Amy giggled back. As Connor brought her to sit back up, Amy's legs kicked Rocco in the side.

"Hey hey watch it!" Rocco barked. "That's my fiancé there!"

"You watch your fu-fuckin' _FUCK! ASS! _mouth!" Doc yelled.

Murphy leaned over the bar to throw ice at Doc. He turned his head to eye Amy.

Amy asked, "So what were you guys talking about before I got here?"

"That your uncle needs to work on his _wise sayings_," Rocco explained. He ran his hand through the thick mat of hair on his head. "So c'mon, give details about Northwestern and the whole shit."

"Not tonight, I'm tired of talking about college and all," Amy groaned. "Let's talk about more fun stuff."

The door to McGinty's opened.

Amy's smile faded and her heart stopped beating. She held her breath as the three – very obvious – Russian mobsters entered.

Before anyone could speak, Connor and Murphy instantly looked at Amy. Their eyes were asking if these were the men that had attacked her. Amy shook her head and shrugged – she had never seen these men.

The larger of the three, the leader, barely stared at the group before saying: "I am Ivan Checkov. You will be closing now."

_Closing? _Amy thought sadly. _Doc didn't tell me…_

The men had all risen from their stools. Connor motioned Amy for her to quietly stand behind him.

Murphy swung his arm around Rocco. "Checkov…" he stared back from the Russian to Rocco. "This here's McCoy… we find us a Spock and we got an away team."

Everyone laughed – except for the Russians, Doc, and Amy.

Checkov: "I am in no mood for discussion. You-" he pointed at Doc. The Russian suddenly noticed Amy. He pointed his finger with a sly grin at the girl. "And you, niece, you stay. The rest of you go now."

Connor moved himself back as if to show the Russian he would not touch Amy. The girl placed her hands on Connor's back – he was her shield.

Doc told the Russian, "Why don't you make l-like a tree and get the fuck out of here!" The old man shook his head at his own nonsense.

Connor held his drink as a peace offering. "Ya don't have to be hard asses, now do ya?"

Murphy: "Yeah, it's St. Patty's Day. Everyone's Irish tonight. Why don't you pull up a stool and have a drink wit' us?"

The angry Russian slammed his fists down on Murphy and Connor's drinks. The loud breaking of glass and ice hitting the floor startled Amy. A small yelp escaped her lips and she felt her back push against the wooden bar.

"This is no game!" Checkov growled. "If you won't go we will make you go."

His eyes went back to Amy. Checkov grinned at the obvious barrier Connor was trying to make.

"Leave now… and we won't hurt girl," Checkov threatened.

One of the two henchmen who had entered with Checkov spoke: "She looks cute. Looks fun to play with. We heard our boys had fun with her some time ago."

Connor's hands balled into fists. Murphy took a step forward but Rocco held him back.

"Amy, go upstairs," Doc demanded.

"I'm not leaving you uncle-"

"Leave!" Doc shouted again.

Connor turned his head slightly and nodded. Amy knew she couldn't (and shouldn't) argue.

She walked in front of Connor and began to walk to the stairs-

One of the men, who still remained silent, grabbed her.

"AMY!" Doc shouted in unison with the other men.

The Silent Man held Amy close to his chest with his hand wrapped around her neck. His free hand pulled a knife out. He held the blade close to the girl's neck.

"You let her fuckin' go!" Connor shouted.

"Or you're gonna get your fuckin' ass beat," Murphy threatened.

Rocco held his arms out to stop Connor and Murphy from moving any further.

"I'm okay guys," Amy forced out. It was hard to breathe but she didn't want to do anything to instigate the mobsters.

She let out a weak gasp for air and that was it.

Connor and Murphy moved fast together – they punched Checkov's legs from under him and the Russian went down. The rest of the men made their attack fast.

Amy forced her head back as hard as she could – she could hear the nose of the Silent Russian break from behind her.

She ducked the moment she saw Rocco and a bar-friend named Will take control of the Silent Russian. Amy fell to her knees and struggled to get up.

Still on the floor, Amy turned to see Connor and two of the other bar-friends punching and kicking at the Checkov. Amy looked toward the back of the bar in time to see Murphy smash two wine bottles against the head of the Russian that had threatened her.

Amy heard Doc trying to call her – he was motioning for her to either come to him behind the bar or to run up stairs.

As she stood Amy realized from her peripheral vision that Rocco and Will fell to the floor.

Silent Russian was at her again.

Amy could hear her name being called out and she could feel the sudden change in the atmosphere as the force from Connor and Murphy's bodies were flying towards her.

Silent Russian approached her with a fist ready in the air.

But Amy was ready too: She lifted her right leg and kicked at Silent's stomach. The Russian gasped for air instantly and his hands went to his belly. Amy approached him, her eyes firm on that pained face, and she placed her hands on Silent's back and raised her knee into the Russian's face.

Once Silent was on the ground, still moaning in pain, Amy stood next to his head and raised her foot – attired in a brown boot – and slammed the tip of the boot on the Russian's head. Finding him knocked out, Amy took a few steps back.

She looked up to see the eyes of a bunch of stunned men glaring at her.

Amy shrugged. "I tried a few kickboxing classes at the university."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy could hear Checkov's voice screaming in the air.

She had been forced by Doc to the apartment. Amy was in her bathroom, staring into the vanity, trying to mute the sounds of the Russian's screams.

The young woman could swear she smelled something burning…

She hadn't realized that at some point – in the brawl – she had suffered another hit to the face.

One of the rings from the Russian's hand had scraped her upper cheek. Amy had a First-Aid opened before her in the kitchen sink. She tore open an alcohol pad and began to gently place the moistened cloth beneath her eye. It stung.

The leg she had used to kick at Silent hurt too. She had quit track her junior year of high school to focus more on her studies. Thus, her body was a bit out of shape.

Amy wanted desperately to go downstairs to see what was happening.

She paced the bathroom and finally sat down at the edge of the tub. Amy placed the alcohol pad beneath her eye again, careful to close her eyes so the fumes didn't irritate them.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor came running up the stairs. Amy approached him as she heard someone coming up.

"Everything okay?" Amy asked. "Are they gone? What happened down there-"

"Sshhh sshhh," Connor pulled Amy into his arms. "It's a'right now love. How are y-" Connor noticed the tiny bloody scrape beneath Amy's eye. "Fuck… I didn't do enough damage on those motherfu-"

"I'm fine," Amy reassured. Her eyes went to the main doorway that led to the bar. "Everyone okay?"

"We're fine," Connor explained. "Tired out."

Another set up steps were heard coming up.

Murphy appeared, out of breath, and rubbed his hand across his face. "We sent those fuckers in a cab to garbage heap uptown. Driver was confused – but we paid him nicely." Murphy approached Amy for the first time since she had arrived back in town.

He touched her face and pulled Amy out of Connor's grasp. "Fuck, love," Murphy's eyes studied the scrape, "you okay?"

"Goddammit, I'm fine," Amy murmured. "Are you?" She turned to Connor. "The two of you haven't been too detailed."

"We're fine, love," Connor grinned. "We'll prob'ly be a bit hungover, but other than that-"

"That's not funny!" Amy snapped. She removed herself from Murphy's touch and took several steps back. "What the fuck do you guys think you were doing?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "First Doc holds back the info that the Russians want the bar… and now you two start this whole brawl and now they might come back and hurt Doc-"

"We start the brawl?" Connor asked.

Murphy: "Amy, they had a knife to your throat-"

Amy: "I was _fine_. You didn't have to take it that far."

Connor: "No one touches you and gets away wit' it dearie."

"The first set of Russians did!" Amy shouted. "And now these guys just get to walk away? With a few bumps and bruises?"

"We did a bit more than that love," Connor defended sarcastically.

"Stop joking!" Amy demanded. "The both of you!"

"What of you Amy?" Murphy asked. "You came out of fuckin' nowhere with those moves."

Amy: "I tried a few classes at the Northwestern gym. So what? That's not the point-"

Connor: "Aye, we got ourselves a fuckin' karate kid."

Murphy: "More like a power ranger."

Connor: "Or a vampire slayer."

Murphy: "Or-"

Amy: "_STOP IT_!"

Murphy and Connor stared at Amy blankly. She was shaking now and Amy was fighting her hardest to keep from crying.

"Stop joking!" Amy begged. "I'm not a kid you guys don't have to make jokes to try and make me feel better." Connor tried to approach her but Amy refused. "No! Stop it!" She stared back at each twin incredulously. "Stop trying to lighten up the mood or whatever your plan is. This is NOT okay!" She pointed to the scrape on her face. "I've had _worse_. And now because of this those assholes can come back and hurt Doc! You guys were lucky tonight!"

Connor shouted, "Amy they were fuckin' outnumbered!"

"Doesn't matter!" Amy screamed. "They have guns! And knives, obviously! Things could have been a lot worse. The two of you might as well have signed the death warrant for Doc-"

"Amy, calm down," Murphy shouted back. He tried to keep his voice low to keep everyone calm but it wasn't working.

Amy: "Jesus-fucking-Christ-"

Murphy and Connor in unison: "Lord's fucking name!"

"Stop it! God, just please stop it!" Amy screamed through the tears. "You guys don't understand what you've started! They'll come back! They'll come back for you and they'll come back for Doc! And I can't leave this place unless I know Doc's safe!"

"It's not your job to protect him Amy!" Murphy shouted. "Doc knew what he was getting himself into."

"He didn't involve himself with the Russian mob!" Amy yelled back.

"Amy please, calm down," Connor tried to soften his voice and composure, "listen… everyone's okay. Everyone will be okay – we promise."

"You can't promise me that!" Amy laughed sarcastically. "Stop treating me like a child and just handle reality the REAL way in front of me! Stop sugarcoating everything and trying to ensure that everything's going to be okay! Just stop it!"

"Fine Amy," Murphy shouted, "this is a shitty world but you gotta live with it! Now listen, this won't come back at ya, we won't let it!"

Connor: "He's right Amy. You know us. You can depend on us-"

"Get out," Amy suddenly demanded. "Get out."

Murphy: "Amy-" He wanted to reach out for her but Amy took another step away from the twins.

"I just want you guys to leave right now," Amy whimpered. She ran to her room and slammed the door shut.

Connor placed his hands on his waist. "Teenagers," he muttered.

"Oh fuck you Connor," Murphy snapped, "she's fuckin' scared. That was some fucked up shit down there. And Amy could have gotten hurt – again – and we-"

"And we weren't the ones protectin' her this time," Connor turned to his brother. "She was able to handle the Russian fine on her own."

"Aye, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna let her fight off the mafiosos on her own," Murphy muttered. "I'm not letting any of those fucks get near her."

Doc was walking up the stairs slowly. The old man rubbed his head and he approached the MacManus brothers.

"How is sh-sh-she?" Doc asked softly.

"She's alright, Doc," Murphy whispered. "Went to her room. You may want to leave her alone for a bit."

Doc nodded. "I think I should se-se-set the girl up in a hotel r-r-room. For the time bein'. For safety. And after grad-grad-grad- oh fuck, after she's done with school, she's leaving for Illinois." The old man stared at Amy's bedroom door sadly. "I don't want her to be in this shithole another minute."

Connor placed his hand on Doc's shoulder comfortingly. "Listen old man. Don't do anythin' drastic. Amy's a young woman now. She may fight ya on this."

Doc nodded. He looked at Connor and turned to Murphy, who was also staring at Amy's closed door.

"You b-boys go on now, Rocco, Will, and Frankie are helpin' clean up da bar. Go home. Get some rest."

Murphy nodded. He turned away and stared at Doc. "You call if anythin' happens."

"Aye," Doc agreed. "Now run along boys. It's been a long night."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

_It was St. Patrick's Day, 1999, when I last saw them. _

_The day after the bar brawl an FBI agent came to the bar. He gave Doc and me a card with his name and information on it. He had wanted to speak with Connor and Murphy about the fight that had taken place. _

_I had heard from Rocco that the Russians had come after them. Connor and Murphy had somehow gotten out of the dangerous situation and ended up at the hospital. I remember that day. Doc wouldn't let me visit them at the hospital or at District 6 – a police station – where they were being held._

_It broke my heart when they wouldn't return my calls. I went to their apartment practically every day to always find it in the same condition – empty._

_I had been ostracized from them. Doc badgered me to focus on schoolwork and I could do nothing else._

_I graduated among two hundred students that May._

_And Connor and Murphy MacManus had not been there. Or at least to my knowledge._

_Before I had left that summer for college, I had heard the worst news…_

_They were killers. Titled Boston's "Saints" they had taken the law into their own hands. They killed bad men and apparently were good at it._

_Before the infamous Yakavetta court room shooting, Doc had informed me that Rocco's body had been taken to the coroner's office._

_David Della Rocco, a man I had known and cared for since I was thirteen, had died. Cause: Unknown._

_Back to the Yakavetta court room shooting: Sketches of Murphy and Connor's faces had been posted on the news. A third face had been listed, an older gentleman, one who had been unfamiliar to myself and to Doc too._

_Then they disappeared. The cops couldn't find them and the FBI had had no luck. I received one last visit from Agent Paul Smecker who informed me to contact him if I ever heard from them. I could tell it was protocol because he didn't seem to care if I heard from them every again._

_I went on with my life._

_I left Boston in late July and started my education at Northwestern. My undergraduate years were the worst – not just because of the coursework but due to many other factors: my distant relationship with my uncle, the death of my mother in 2002, and a car accident in 2004 which caused my inability to never have children._

_I gained a master's degree in Business Management and a bachelor's in Art Studies. After working as an intern for Chicago's Edison Museum, I easily gained a job as Art Administrator upon graduation._

_Looking back on those eight years away from home, I always thought that this had been my path all along._

_-Aimes Daniela Jensen_

_P.S. This is a note to yourself (I thought I would add this in so you can look back and remember the feeling you're having right now): __**Little did you know… that things were going to drastically change.**_

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

_August 28, 2007_

A twenty-five-year-old Amy Jensen awoke from bed in a cold sweat. She had dreamt that she had been flying over green pastures and seen sheep and two men atop horses.

She rubbed her sweaty forehead in the darkness. Amy's eyes hadn't fully adjusted and she could barely see her own arm in front of her face.

Her body automatically relaxed in bed. She adjusted the heavy comforter and pushed it off her. Amy could hear the soft sounds of the man sleeping beside her. She ignored him for a moment. Her mind was suddenly on the two men that she had not seen nor spoken of in about eight years.

Amy closed her eyes. She felt the comforting arm of the sleeping man wrap around her. She placed her small hands on his arm. He might have been awake for a minute but the man was soon fast asleep.

Her breaths were slow and her heart began to calm itself. _Just a dream, _Amy thought. _Just a dream._

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Hope you're all enjoying! Reviews are appreciated! Another thing: I had always thought that _Boondock Saints_ had taken place in 1999… in the sequel a couple of characters noted how _eight_ years has gone by. This would mean that the movie (sequel) would take place in 2007 – not our present year: 2009. So let's all just play by the rules of the timeline.

P.S. If there are some of you that haven't seen _Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day_, I suggest you watch the movie before continuing reading my story – I don't want to spoil anything for anyone. (P.S.S. I've seen the sequel five times already and I plan on seeing it again and again and again…)

Thanks again for the great reviews! Keep 'em coming!


	9. Chapter 9 Being Realistic Again

Author's Note: Glad everyone's enjoying! Reviews appreciated!

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Chapter Nine: Being Realistic… Again**

The smell of eggs and coffee filled her nose as Amy's eyes fluttered opened. She wanted her eyelids to shut tight – and stay like that – but the sound of Simon's singing forced her to get up.

The lavender comforter felt heavy on her. _My own bed is trapping me here… _Amy thought. She yawned and rubbed her face tiredly. The black velvet curtains blocked out the sunrise but Simon must have let the bedroom lamp on. He knew she was normally irritable Monday mornings and it was the toughest day to get her out of bed.

Simon's singing amplified. Amy groaned and crawled out of bed in a pair of black hot pants and a thin white T-shirt.

Her tired body walked zombie-like to the curtains. She lifted her weak arms and pulled apart the curtains.

Light streamed in to the lavender-and-white bedroom. Amy hugged herself in the light and took in a deep breath. The window revealed the beautiful city of Edison, Illinois.

Her nose smelled the coffee and her mouth watered for it.

The twenty-five-year-old woman hadn't changed much since eighteen (in regards to her physical appearance). She had grown two inches taller and, due to the kickboxing classes she took regularly, her physique was more slender and desirable than the body of a lanky teenager. Her breasts had taken a sudden turn her first year of college; Amy had always thought she would be flat-chested forever, but the college years had been good to her: College turned her into a woman.

Amy had always loved her hair was a child. It was a rule, made by her mother, that Amy should never dye her hair in order to keep it soft and looking beautiful naturally.

But after Amy's mother died of cancer, the woman could barely stare at her reflection. "You look like your mother," Amy's uncle's voice rang in her ear. She had died her hair a light brown color and, instead of wearing it straight or slightly wavy, Amy wore her hair curly. The length wasn't as long – the hair now reached her shoulders.

Her family's history of terrible eyesight caught up with Amy so she wore contacts. In order to not stare into the familiar pair of green eyes in the mirror, she had found a set that gave her dark brown eyes.

Boston's Amy Jensen had disappeared and the successful Aimes Jensen of Edison had taken her place.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy stepped into the kitchen to find Simon waiting with a plate of breakfast. Her hair was still damp from the shower and she wore a gray, silvery robe.

Simon rested the newspaper on the black kitchen table and greeted Amy, "Good morning."

"'Morning," Amy murmured. She sat down and accepted the coffee Simon had brewed.

"I never thought you'd get up," Simon pointed out.

Amy took a sip. "I didn't think you'd be cooking breakfast."

The muscular blonde grinned at her. Amy called her the "Ken doll" due to his Barbie-like appearance. He was a beautiful man, nonetheless, but Amy could never ignore the bright blonde hair, perfect teeth, and the smile that all dentists and supermodels could admire. "I know how you are with Monday mornings," Simon added, "I thought I would just make the process easier."

He pushed the plate of eggs in front of her. Her favorite: scrambled with cheese sprinkled on the top.

"You know me so well," Amy whispered.

Simon got up from the table and leaned over to Amy. His full, soft lips met hers and Amy responded by kissing him back. When the two pulled away, Amy smiled at him and touched his face. "Thank you."

He bowed like a gentleman. "I know you like to have your own space. I get it – I've been asking you to move in with me for about five months now…"

"Not _that_ again," Amy whined. She placed her coffee back on the table. "I like this apartment."

"I like it too," Simon agreed, "and your stuff would look great in _my_ apartment." He laughed. "I would offer to move here but I know you would never have that."

Amy sat Indian-style in her chair. She combed her wet hair with her fingertips. "Simon, please, not now." She closed her eyes. "I got a lot going on this week. I have to meet with the board about the merger and discuss all the plans about the Arts for All program…"

Simon nodded and grabbed Amy's empty cup of coffee. He went to the gray-and-black marble top kitchen counter and poured more black liquid from the Mr. Coffee machine.

"You guys have been discussing the merger for weeks. I don't see why you guys just can't settle, become best friends, and get with the program," Simon asked.

Amy rolled her eyes. "It's not that simple. Berton doesn't want to switch locations, Regan & Ellis don't care for travel, and-"

"I get it Aimes," Simon groaned. "I understand the business. I am the curator of the museum you work at after all."

"Don't remind me," Amy added playfully. "I hate it when you remind me of your superiority."

Simon smiled. "I know…" He gave Amy her fresh cup of coffee and kissed her neck.

Amy laughed. "Besides it's your dad that's the actual curator… you're like… _Prince Curator_-"

"Don't remind me," Simon echoed. He sat back down at the kitchen table. "He told me about all the big plans you guys have set up. You want everything settled by Christmas. Wishful thinking, don't you agree?"

Amy shook her head. "If we can get Arts for All picked up for intercity neighborhoods with the city's museum involved… by next year we would have successfully saved art programs and helped start art scholarships for high school graduates. We already got New York and Jersey involved…"

"And California," Simon reminded, "those Hollywood-hotheads settled the deal last weekend. I think they care more about the publicity than actually saving their art programs."

"It's not like that," Amy fought back, "because of Arts for All the Compton area has already saved their arts and music program from being removed. We have a couple of partial scholarships set up already. If we can just get more museums to agree to the program-"

"We can _save the world_," Simon mocked in a deep voice. His laughter annoyed Amy. Simon rested his hand on Amy's knee and said, "I'm kidding babe. You know that. I'm more about the business of the art world. You represent the business yet you're still an artist at heart."

"You're making fun of me."

"I'm merely pointing out that you're an artist at heart… but you're still a business woman. Think realistically." Simon sat back in his seat. "Don't forget you have a business to run. Besides Arts for All you still have arrangements with the British Museum to follow through with and you need to get your ass to Egypt and get us some of those tasty little artifacts."

"I've only been with the company for a year, barely," Amy reminded slowly. "I don't think they're ready to just set me off for the traveling. They're gonna hand the job over to Roderick and I'm left collecting the data and forms and contracts and-"

Simon shook his head and laughed. He reached over to hold Amy's hands in his. "Amy-Baby," he called her by the obnoxious nickname Amy disliked, "relax… my dad loves you. And he loves the work you've been doing just as much. You're going to do well in front of the board this week and Arts for All will be a hit. I know it. I've never met a girl who was so OCD about getting things accomplished." He reached up to stroke her cheek. "Aurora-Ansell is glad to have you part of its company."

Amy nodded and began to take slow, deep breaths. "I'm just ready for all of this to be done with."

Her twenty-nine-year-old beau grinned and reassured, "Everything is going to go well. You do everything well. Now go finish getting ready for work – I'll clean up here and I have to head back and get ready for the day myself."

"I'll be working late and heading to the gym later-"

Simon: "Soo no dinner tonight then?"

Amy reached over and rubbed Simon's forearm. "I have a feeling this week is going to get complicated. I just need my own space for the time being."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The building for Aurora-Ansell was sixty-floors tall and was known by some as the "Empire State Building of Chicago."

On the twenty-eighth floor Amy exited the elevator as she waved goodbye to her other colleagues.

Attired in black slacks, white blouse, and a light pink blazer, Amy walked the hall ready for the day. Her hair was pulled back with a few curly strands dangling by her cheeks. She began to tug at the white pearls around her neck (last year's birthday gift from Simon).

As Amy walked down the light blue hall a smaller woman, Lydia, appeared beside her quickly. The secretary was wearing a similar outfit however she wore a long black shirt and a red blazer.

Lydia carried a black leather organizer at her side and handed Amy her regular hazelnut coffee.

"'Morning boss," Lydia greeted, "I just wanted to let you know that the representatives from L.A. will be in at the end of the week to sign off some final papers with you. You're still on schedule to visit the museum on Wednesday to overview the final makeover details and Egypt faxed over a few photos of the mummy exhibit they wish to share with us."

"Did Beijing sign off the contract too?" Amy asked as the two turned the corner and into Amy's office.

Amy walked around her black desk and sat down at the large matching chair.

Lydia sat across from Amy and continued: "Beijing is clear for take-off. They're getting Hong Kong involved too. Oh yes…" The small brunette's voice turned timid. "The meeting you have with the board tomorrow…"

The dark brown eyes of Lydia's superior looked up.

"They've moved it to next week-"

"What!" Amy gasped. "I've been preparing for this for weeks! This was my time to review all the data and necessary information and get these guys fully involved-"

"Mr. Ansell called me earlier this morning," Lydia jumped in, "he apologized for the change but says he'd like to see you at nine to discuss a few things."

"How long do I have?"

"To see Ansell? About an hour-"

Amy rose from her desk. She straightened out her blazer and made her way to the door.

"Curator or not I'm going to talk to him right now," Amy threatened. Lydia squirmed from her chair and followed Amy down the hall.

When Amy came to the elevator Lydia reminded calmly, "Now Amy… he isn't just the curator he's the _CEO_… now be careful."

Amy smiled at her secretary as she entered the empty elevator. She pressed the top button and Amy playfully waved at Lydia.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Hal Ansell was a sixty-one-year-old man who was both the CEO of Aurora-Ansell and the curator of Edison's museum. Mr. Ansell was also Simon's father.

The silver-haired man sat quietly in his office as he typed away at his laptop.

His door opened suddenly and Amy stepped through.

A smile crossed the old man's face and he nodded for her to come forward.

"I knew I would expect you _early_, Ms. Jensen," Mr. Ansell said. He motioned for Amy to sit but the woman did not take his offer.

Her hands were placed firmly on her hips. "Sir why was I notified that the board meeting is pushed to next week?"

"Because several of the board members are still abroad and settling other deals," Ansell said gently, "please, Amy sit… there is something that I would like to discuss with you."

Amy pursed her lips and sat down.

Ansell folded his hands together and leaned back in his leather chair. "I believe this program will be very successful. So successful that within five years we can have nationwide scholarships set up. The business of museums isn't doing as well these days but luckily people still have a taste for the arts." He leaned forward and rested his hands on his desk. "Amy, my dear, the meeting is pushed to next week because the board has already agreed to support Arts for All one hundred percent."

Her face was either pure white or bright red – Amy couldn't tell. For a moment she felt her heart stop and wasn't sure if she was breathing correctly.

"Arts for All is set in motion," Ansell announced. "Starting next month our top administrators will be announcing to several cities across the nation that we will be providing partial and full scholarships for young people interested in careers in art, music, and even business."

Amy's hand flew to her chest. She was trying to see if her heart was beating…

Ansell released a loud, hearty laugh. "Amy! Congratulations! Because of you we got the full backup we needed to press this forward. Big things are happening for many people around the world and it's because of you. Congratulations."

"Oh sir…" Amy finally spat out, "thank you… _thank you_ so much."

"Thank you Amy," Ansell said gently. "I know that you hate surprises so I'm already informing you that before the official announcement is made next month we will be throwing a celebration in your honor – and in the honor of Arts for All."

_Oh…my…god…I could totally cry right now…_

"Amy there is something very important, however, that we must discuss," Ansell said seriously. His change in tone forced Amy to focus. "The board is concerned, however, that this successful plan was your doing – an Art Administrator that's been with us for just a year… I've told them that you've been here longer, as an intern, but they're doubtful if we should trust someone with such limited experience with our major deals. The British Museum, for one thing…"

"Oh sir-"

"But there is a way to settle this," Ansell smiled. "We're still trying to get another museum's involvement. The area is not _ideal_ to the board to have involved… but I feel it will be necessary to gain just one more partner in all of this…and if we were to successfully gain the support and mergence of this museum… Arts for All will truly be a successful program." He narrowed his eyes at Amy. "This would be your first field experience – you would be required to travel, impress, and seal the deal yourself. Think you could handle it?"

Amy nodded. She understood how the business worked and did not wish to argue. "What's the location?"

Ansell sighed and smiled. "Boston."

The pale look must have returned for Ansell suddenly looked concerned.

"Something wrong dear?"

"I thought… I thought we had already cleared the program with Boston University's museum-"

"Yes, we did successfully gain the partnership of the museum but we want the mergence with Thompson & Falcon. T&F is a very powerful, successful corporation that actually helps with scholarships across Massachusetts. They're located in South Boston – where you, surprisingly, are from."

"I never mentioned that?" Amy asked.

Ansell shook his head. "I knew you were from Massachusetts but I always assumed the Cambridge area or somewhere. Simon informed me the other evening during dinner that you actually grew up in South Boston."

Amy nodded. "Yes. I was raised there."

"Fantastic," Ansell clapped his hands together. "T&F are having a tough time deciding if this mergence is a smart deal. Of course it is. But I believe they are feeling intimidated. They don't want to lose their name and they don't want to suffer any bad publicity from it. South Boston, according to my colleagues, is a lost city. Useless. But I feel that it's a city that needs a lot of help and restructuring. If South Boston can get Arts for All as a resource we can get the area to improve in its other needs such as build up the employment rate and get people off the streets."

Ansell was a good man. Like his wife Madeline Aurora, who died many years ago, Ansell was more than just a business man; he was a philanthropist and the basic good-guy. He was a superhero without a cape. Amy admired the man as he spoke. She wondered how Simon had not taken these similar qualities…

"When Simon told me you were from South Boston, I thought to myself 'How perfect!' Amy… you're the best representative we have that can convince South Boston to merge and we then we can show the entire nation – maybe some day the whole globe – that it can take just a community to improve itself and with one community's help we can help others."

Ansell rose from his seat and approached Amy. She stood up as well and held her hands out as Ansell reached for her. The old man held her hands in his and gave her a tight squeeze.

"The board has agreed that if you get South Boston to merge… you will be the one leading the trip to the British Museum, Egypt… and soon to the Louvre in Paris," Ansell said softly.

Amy took a deep breath smiled the best she could.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy and Lydia were walking speedily down the hall.

Amy: "Call Los Angeles and inform them that I will unfortunately be unavailable to clear the contracts with them. They'll have Roderick to be their administrator. Tell the museum I will be by this afternoon to overlook the details for the renovations – make sure they know that _I_ have the final say unless they want to get in contact with Ansell. Send Egypt a thank you letter and send them a call instilling our gratitude."

They stepped inside Amy's office. Amy skipped to her desk and quickly logged on to her computer. Lydia was quickly jotting the details down in her organizer as well as typing things into her Blackberry.

"We'll leave for Boston tomorrow night," Amy continued with her orders, "Lydia you're coming with me. Make arrangements at the Palmetto – it's a great four-star hotel-"

"The company is taking care of all of this, wouldn't you prefer to be closer to T&F by staying at the Copley Plaza-"

"No," Amy said quickly, catching Lydia off-guard. Amy breathed in slowly and said, "The Palm will be fine. Two separate suites for us. Please send a car to pick us up tomorrow. Call me when you have the exact details of our flight."

"I'll call the airport now," Lydia nodded. She turned around and made her way out of Amy's office. The small woman turned around and asked, "I have a feeling that you're not really excited about this trip."

Amy looked up blankly. "It's South Boston. It's exciting enough on its own."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: will try and update as soon as possible! Reviews appreciated.


	10. Chapter 10 Overwhelmed

**Chapter Ten: Overwhelmed**

Two large pieces of luggage sat atop Amy's bed. Each was filled with clothing and other travel necessities. Amy paced her bedroom anxiously while grabbing other items to pack. She disappeared into the master bedroom to double-check her Travel List.

Simon was lying across the bed. He didn't care that his perfectly fit black suit was beginning to wrinkle. The blonde looked into Amy's luggage and pulled out a black lacey thong. "So is this business or pleasure?"

Amy stuck her head out of the bathroom. She noticed Simon eyeing her underwear and grinned. "Business. But I'm preparing for both."

He gave her a wry stare and laughed. Simon groaned and asked, "This better take no more than two weeks."

"A month at the most," Amy called from the bathroom. "Your dad says I can go ahead and handle some work at Boston University. Hopefully I'll settle T&F. Two birds – one stone."

"But that one stone is a _month_," Simon whined.

"At the most."

Simon rolled in Amy's bed and got up. He tossed the black jacket onto the bed and walked over to the bathroom in time for Amy to exit. She bumped into him and stared into the disappoint face looking down at her.

"I'm ought to give my dad a hard time about this," Simon threatened.

"He wants me to be successful. He needs me to work. And that's what I'm doing," Amy explained. She tiptoed to kiss his jaw line.

Amy walked back over to her luggage to squeeze in a small green bag that possessed other toiletries. She re-packed the underwear Simon had been playing with.

Simon approached Amy front behind and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I'm going to miss you."

He couldn't see her face but Amy's expression was emotionless. "I'll miss you too," she lied. "You've gone on similar trips. You've been gone a lot longer too."

His hands switched positions on her waist so Simon could get Amy to turn to face him.

"I know this is a big deal. And I'm excited for you… I'm just…"

Amy held onto Simon's shoulder and used her strength to lift herself up. She kissed the man deeply and felt her body rise from the floor. His arms wrapped around her tightly and he gripped the back of her head as he kissed her.

"Will you see me off tomorrow?" Amy asked as her feet were back on the floor. Simon nodded. She could tell he was hoping to spend the night again. "Listen… I have some stuff I need to get together before I leave. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Amy removed herself from Simon's arms. She walked to the bed and grabbed his jacket. As Amy straightened out the arms an object fell from the loose pocket.

Her eyes froze on the light blue Tiffany's box lying on the floor.

Simon's glance was not on the box. His eyes were glued to Amy… He waited for her to say or do something…

Amy bent down. She picked up the box delicately and rose slowly. Her eyes went to Simon questionably.

"Dad told me he was going to surprise you with the news of how well Arts for All was doing," Simon said in a monotone voice. His eyes gestured to the box. "I guess I wanted to surprise you too."

"Is this…" Amy couldn't finish her sentence.

"Open it," Simon asked gently.

The air was stiff. Amy was so stunned by the tiny blue box she wasn't sure if she should open it…

Her fingers removed the thin white ribbon that was tied around it. Inside the box was another box – a smooth, white ring box.

Amy gently took the blue box, its lid, and the ribbon and placed it on the nightstand.

She looked up at Simon before opening the ring box.

There it was…

The diamond was a perfect cut. The square frame around the diamond was also encrusted with diamonds. The white gold band shone perfectly against the lamplight.

Amy looked up. Her mouth was in a surprised _O_-shape.

Simon approached her slowly. Just centimeters away, Simon stared down at the box and then back at Amy. The ring still had not been removed from its box.

"Amy…" Simon whispered softly. "I've been carrying that ring with me for a few weeks now. And I'm still not sure if it's the right time-"

"It's not," Amy said quickly. She realized how hurtful her words were and Amy looked up in the pained face of the man before her. She looked down at the ring and then back at Simon. "The timing's just… I can't even… Simon… the only thing I've been thinking about is Arts for All and the merger and this job and I can't…" Still holding the box in her hand, Amy walked over to the bed and sat down.

Simon followed her move and sat down beside her.

"Simon I'm just overwhelmed," Amy continued, "I'm excited about what your dad told me today… but more than that… I'm terrified of going back home." She bit her lip and stared at Simon. "There's so much going on in my head that I'm not sure how to process this."

Simon nodded. "I know. Amy…" His hand rested on her leg. "I love you. I've told you this before. And even though you've never introduced me to people as your boyfriend… despite the fact that we act like a real couple…" His eyes fell. "And even though you've never said you love me… I know that I love you. I've loved you for two years…" Simon's eyes went to the ring. "I know this is a difficult time for you. And honestly…when I thought about giving you this ring… I had no idea how you would react…" He laughed. "Actually I did envision this…" He stared seriously at Amy. "We're perfect together, Amy Jensen. Since the moment we met."

Amy: "I…"

Simon: "We're in the same line of work. We both enjoy our own space. I feel awful about the fact that you can't have kids… but I've never wanted kids anyway. You've never discussed any interest in the matter either. We're a perfect match. In every way." His hand went to the box. He lifted the ring in between his fingertips and motioned to put it on her hand.

Amy shook her head. "I don't know what to say, Simon."

Instead of putting the ring on the usual hand – the left – Simon placed the ring on Amy's ring finger on the right. "Take your time," Simon requested. "Just… go on this trip. Focus on your work. But promise me you'll be thinking about me…and this…" He lifted Amy's hand and kissed the ring on her finger.

Her eyes fell to the ring that seemed to fit almost-perfectly on her finger.

Simon: "Take your time. When you come back… have an answer for me. Just…wear this. For me. Please."

Amy nodded slowly. Her tongue was numb and her body was still. Simon lifted his hand to Amy's cheek and kissed her on the area beside her mouth. His lips then moved to her lips and he pressed their lips together with a great force. She kissed him back, hesitantly, but then did her best to kiss him back with just as much passion.

The two pulled away and Amy stared down at her hand. She looked at Simon and did her best to smile. "I'll think about it." She touched the ring. "It's beautiful."

Simon smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. "I'll give you everything you've ever wanted. I promise. Home is where the heart is… your home is here… with me."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The next evening Amy sat in First Class with her eyes gazing out the window. She stared in the dark blue sky and leaned her head against the comfy white pillow given to her by the extra-perky stewardess.

Lydia, sitting beside Amy, typed at her laptop and made adjustments in her hand-written notes in the leather organizer. She turned to Amy and then back to the laptop screen.

"So are you going to explain that new ring on your finger or what?" Lydia asked with a smile.

Amy turned hazily. "What?"

Lydia laughed. "I've known you eight months. I'm your secretary. I keep up with everything in regards to _you_. You don't wear a lot of jewelry. And that-" Her eyes were on the ring "is new."

"Just a ring," Amy explained. "Simon gave me a gift before I left."

Lydia: "Mhm."

Amy: "You know I'll kick your ass if you say anything to anyone."

Lydia: "Yes ma'am."

The secretary went back to her duties with a small smile on her face. Amy's gaze went back to the window.

_Arts for All… Aurora-Ansell… the merger… Boston… South Boston… Simon … Stupid, fucking maybe-engagement ring… _Amy's head began to hurt as she tried to mentally list everything that was going to make the trip back to Boston stressful. _Home…_

The last time Amy had talked to her uncle had been through a letter about a year ago. The only decent detail Amy had learned of her uncle's life was that he had moved out of the apartment above McGinty's and into an apartment complex for senior citizens.

She still kept in touch with old school friends. But that was it. Anyone she had known from the bar were gone…

_Home… Home… McGinty's… Doc… Southie… McGinty's…Doc…Home…Home…_

Amy adjusted the pillow beneath her head. She tried to relax.

"I'm so fucked," Amy said aloud, but not loud enough for Lydia to hear.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Just a quick update. Can't wait to update soon! Reviews appreciated!


	11. Chapter 11 No Looking Back

Author's Note: sorry for the delay – had finals and all.

kungfupandabear: glad you're enjoying! I LOVE the deleted scene when their mom calls from Ireland – after I watch the first movie I have to play the special features disc and take a look at that scene. The gag reel was great, short, but great.

MindPolicePatrolCar: I'm psyched that you love my story! Thanks again!

angiebaj: thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you like my story! And no worries – I will definitely be adding more "Account" entries and flashbacks. I feel like I didn't spend enough time with Amy's growing-up at McGinty's, so I'll definitely be adding a bit more to further explain the relationship between Amy and the MacManus brothers.

Katy: I always enjoy reading your feedback! LOVE 'EM! I'm glad you like it and I'm glad you were surprised by the route I took. I like that you dislike Simon :p haha. I'm still not sure how I feel about him myself except that a counterpart is somewhat necessary for Amy – and one that is completely opposite of Murphy. And YES I am bringing Eunice in. I LOVED her character in the sequel. I had my fears when I first saw the trailer because I like that the _Boondock Saints_ have left out a romantic interest (duh, that's what fanfiction is for!). And I was glad that Eunice wasn't a love interest at all – she was a strong female character and the _Boondock Saints_ world needed one. I think she and Amy would get along great! Can't wait to see how it unfolds…

Thanks EVERYONE for the reviews! Please keep them coming because it definitely helps with my ego-boost (haha, jk… but no seriously) and it's good to know that people are enjoying this. I enjoy lots of feedback (the good and the bad) because I would like to improve my story/writing.

Enjoy!

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Chapter Eleven: No Looking Back**

_The silver baton slipped into her hand easily. Amy grabbed the metal tube and sprinted as hard – and fast – as she could._

_The gray running shorts felt uncomfortable as she ran and the matching silver-and-white tank top felt too tight against her breasts. Her eyes took a moment to glance at her school's track uniform responding to the run. The sound of her name being cheered in the audience forced Amy to focus back on the relay._

_One lap. Amy muttered "one lap" in her mind over and over…_

_Her white sneakers smacked against the black track in unison with the crowd's clapping. Amy gripped the baton tighter as she passed two female opponents – one dressed in orange and the other in a dark green._

_Amy came around the first loop. She was catching up to the girl in the lead – a student from a school whose colors were maroon and brown. _

_She noticed how the maroon-and-brown girl's black hair whipped behind her as she ran. As she noticed the girl in more detail Amy realized she was coming around the second loop and toward the finish line._

_The white streamer was held by the coaches. They waited in anticipation to see who would win…_

_Amy ran faster as her name grew louder from the crowd. A smile crossed her face when a "FUCK! ASS!" echoed among the crowd._

_Her eyes darted to the crowd for just a moment…_

_Doc waved his hands in the air wildly as Connor, Murphy, and Rocco cheered. Each had a cigarette in their hand and an upset parent glaring down at them. They continued to cheer obnoxiously and shout curses into the air. When they called out her name again… Amy found herself running side by side with the maroon-and-brown girl._

_Amy grinned as the other girl snared back._

_The two tried to run faster – the other girl was having trouble with her breathing while Amy was trying to find the strength to pump her legs faster…_

_The sixteen-year-old girl was still smiling as she heard her uncle's turrets come into play. Amy bit her lower lip as she found a way to hit her feet harder against the track._

_The sound of cheers made Amy realize that she had run through the white streamer. She had crossed the Finish Line first – she was the winner._

_Amy began to run slower in her realization that the race was done. Her teammates crowded around her and congratulated her with hugs and pats on the back. _

_Minutes later Amy pushed through the crowds of happy or upset parents and high school students. She found Doc and accepted the bouquet of pink roses he handed to her. Rocco could be seen hitting on a teacher out of the corner of Amy's eye. As she smiled Amy became more excited as Murphy and Connor found her through the crowd. They were jogging toward her and Amy held her arms out for their embrace-_

"Amy?" Lydia's voice popped into Amy's head suddenly.

The woman turned away from one of the television screens that showed a high school track meet. Amy unfolded her arms across her chest and stared blankly at her secretary. The smaller woman gestured that a cab, seen outside of the airport, was waiting on them.

Amy grabbed her carry-ons from the flight and joined Lydia in their walk exiting Boston's General Edward Lawrence Logan International airport.

The cabdriver had already placed their bags in the trunk of the yellow vehicle. He had obviously been tipped early – a down payment, of a sort – and did his best to receive a second handsome tip at the end of the journey.

He opened the back door of the cab to Amy who climbed in quietly. She straightened out her blue business skirt and matching blazer as she sat inside. Lydia followed in after her and the cabdriver quickly darted to the driver's seat. Lydia explained the directions to the Palmetto and he politely said "As you wish!" and took off.

Lydia held onto her organizer close to her chest as the cab took a sudden turn around the airport.

"Boston cabs are different from Edison's," Lydia whispered.

Amy nodded. "And trust me… you never get used to it."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The Palmetto was a very nice hotel – exquisite, beautifully furnished and structured, and had no history of mob killings in the building. Amy did not want to leak the information of the Petrova shooting at the Copley Plaza back in 1999. The last thing she wanted was for Lydia to pick up any details regarding Boston's "Saints."

Lydia was taking care of the checking-in process at the front counter. Amy's eyes were focused on the big screen set up in the lobby. She had been watching ten minutes of the news and, to her relief, heard nothing of any "Saints" business.

They had been gone for eight years and, hopefully, they would stay like that.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The luxury suites were on the top floor and Amy was pleased to be informed by the bellhop that not many guests were occupying the surrounding rooms. Lydia and Amy were separated by one suite – due to Amy's request – and Lydia stepped into her suite as the bellhop escorted Amy to her room.

The white door was opened for her and Amy stepped inside. The bellhop began to give Amy the tour – the living room (with two wide couches and a wide-screen TV), the bedroom (king-size bed), the bathroom (with a standing shower and Jacuzzi), and the kitchenette (with a mini-fridge and bar). Amy paid no attention to the extensive details of the suite. The bellhop left with a good tip and Amy was finally alone.

She left her luggage in her bedroom, not worrying to unpack yet, and Amy removed her gray blazer and tossed it on the black dresser.

Amy left her bedroom, ignoring the fact that it was two o'clock in the morning and she desperately needed sleep, and aimed for the bar.

Her taste hadn't changed for alcohol – Amy still hated the smell and bitter after-taste – but she needed something in her system to help her sleep. _Too much to think about…_ Amy thought as she scrambled through the white cabinet in the kitchenette. She found a small bottle of scotch and smiled. Amy poured the auburn liquid into a small glass that was already waiting for her on the counter. She poured a bit and immediately swallowed. The horrible taste lingered in her throat and the liquid burned the corners of her mouth.

Amy's eyes suddenly stung and she realized it was time to remove her contacts. Before her trip to the bathroom Amy went to answer her door. The small knocking had interrupted her drinking.

She opened the grand white door to find her tired secretary before her. In her arms was the black organizer that Lydia could not live without.

Lydia stepped inside and yawned.

"Care for a drink?" Amy offered.

The small dirty-blonde girl shook her head. "I'm about to pass out. No thanks - with my luck I'll wake up with a hangover. So you're not meeting with T&F until Monday so we have time to arrange spreadsheets and documentation and contracts… Boston University has agreed that an early appointment in the morning – on Friday – will be good." Lydia rubbed her eyes. "Should we wake up early? Get a couple of hours – wake up at seven – and get started?"

Amy poured herself another glass of scotch. With a small sip Amy shook her head and said, "Sleep in." She noticed the confused look on her secretary. "We really only need a day's work. Let's sleep in. Wake up when you please. Have breakfast whenever. All meals are complimentary of the company. How about we meet for a late lunch at the dining hall at two and start working from there?"

Lydia did not complain. She smiled as she tiredly bid Amy a good-night and left the room.

"Have a good night boss," Lydia repeated when she closed the door behind her.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Hotel beds were unpleasant for Amy. They were nice and perfect – of course – but Amy had never enjoyed the full, almost new feeling to the bed. The pillows were too fluffy for her liking and her head barely sank into the white pillows. The comforter – a light pink shade – felt too heavy on her. She was so comfortable that Amy felt _too_ comfortable. Amy had traveled for Aurora-Ansell before, but she had travelled with other administrators and business heads so her mind had always been at ease about her work. Hotel rooms had been manageable then.

She moved around in the unnecessarily large bed and Amy found comfort lying on her side. Her hair fell over her face, only adding to her annoyance.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

_5:00 AM_

Amy stepped out onto the balcony of her suite. It wasn't much of a balcony – more like a piece of roof meant specifically for the suite's occupant. There was a lovely gray patio set with a peach-colored umbrella nearby. She walked across the cold, salt-and-pepper floor of the balcony and reached for the gray-barred banister.

She was dressed only in the hotel's white robe. Amy's legs were bare but she didn't mind the cold.

Boston in the fall was a familiar thing. Amy felt the chill breeze against her cheek and shuddered. Everything smelled familiar to Amy too…

_Welcome back to Southie, Amy…_ she told herself.

Her body begged for her to turn around. Amy wanted nothing more than just to head back to bed and attempt to sleep.

But her mind was filled with the past. The images of _once-was_ fluttered through her brain despite Amy's internal protests.

Amy tried to imagine everything in black-and-white. She figured that if she forced her memories into a film-like montage, it wouldn't be as real to her…

She already knew what would happen today: Amy would wake up. She would be exhausted. The lunch with Lydia would be filled with talk of business and things that would evaporate in Amy's head.

She knew where she would end up tonight.

There was no stopping it.

No one – not even Amy – could stop herself from ending up at the dreaded source of memories tonight.

She had to see it. She had to see the place as a real thing. _Had it actually existed or had it all been a dream?_

It was rare for someone who grew up in South Boston – especially someone that had a great opportunity to get out – to ever return.

And Amy was back.

Her chest ached at the thought of seeing her three favorite people there. She knew, however, that two of them were long-gone. But she wondered if that daffy old man would be there.

_Of course… and he'll tell you to get the "FUCK! ASS! out!"_

Her hands gripped the banister and she closed her eyes…

_Doc will be there… the twins, well, they're gone forever… Rocco…dead…_

_Because of them, no doubt…_

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She ran.

Dressed in tight black jogging pants, black under armor, and a pink Speedo tank top, Amy ran through the familiar streets of South Boston.

Not much had changed except the few people Amy had passed on the streets were unfamiliar to her. Regardless of the faces she met Amy felt like she was running through 1999.

Her hair was tired back and whipped behind her as she sprinted through alleyways and jumped over cardboard boxes and other types of debris.

Amy knew she was about two blocks away from McGinty's. She was tempted to run by it but Amy realized where she was suddenly –

The building _they_ had lived in.

She breathed heavily and placed her hands on her hips as Amy stared up. Her eyes found the fifth floor's windows and Amy – without hesitation – walked into the building through a backdoor.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She could hear the voices of angry Irish families yelling at one another. Amy only assumed that people were still illegally living in the building.

There had only been a few times Amy had actually come to visit the building; she had become more acquainted with it the summer before she left for Northwestern.

Amy had stopped by the building every day that summer…

To always find it empty.

She stepped off the lift when it came to the fifth floor.

Not bothering to pause or rethink, Amy walked toward the apartment door she remembered so well…

It was empty. _No surprise there…_

Amy's sweaty hand touched the wall near the door where their rosaries used to hang.

The same two nails were there…

The couch that had once been just a few feet away from the door was missing. The beds too.

All that was left in the apartment was a stale, vile odor and garbage and newspaper lying around.

The toilet, to Amy's surprise, was missing from its place as well.

Her heart sank deep into her chest. Amy realized the feeling that was arising in her chest and throat was disappointment.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She hadn't bothered to run by the bar. Her legs, with a mind of their own, took her back to the Palmetto.

Amy was smothered in sweat and felt her face and eyes sting because of it. She passed by the elevators and ran up the hotel's extravagant staircase.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The meeting with Lydia in the dining hall had gone from two o'clock in the afternoon to six in the evening. Her gregarious secretary seemed to have talked for the majority of the meeting – reiterating Amy's plans and organizing everything aloud. Her fingers wrote desperately in her organizer and Lydia announced and read aloud the e-mails she had received from Ansell in the morning.

Amy had signed off several pending contracts and edited letters for Lydia to send.

Her hand and mind was tired near the end of it. Amy did not want to think about Aurora-Ansell, any merger-business, Arts for All, Boston University, or anything involved with work.

The ring on her right hand annoyed her. Amy used her thumb to spin the ring around her finger several times before realizing Lydia had proposed an early dinner.

"I'm actually not hungry," Amy said as she rose from the table. Lydia scrambled to get several papers and her laptop off the table.

"Alrighty then, I'm going to head to my room and order a bit of room service. And I'll get to work on these contracts and make a few phone calls." Lydia looked over to Amy who was standing very still. "What are you going to do tonight?"

Amy looked up from the floor and stared blankly at her secretary. "I need to go get a drink."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The cab dropped Amy off a block away from the bar.

She stepped out and stared around the familiar street. Amy paid the cab driver and made her way toward McGinty's.

Her curly hair swayed against the wind as Amy walked to the bar. She wore dark denim jeans, gray boots, and a purple pea coat – to ensure that she looked "grown up" compared to the Amy Jensen that had lived in South Boston eight years ago.

She stuck her hands into her pockets and turned the corner.

_There it is…_

She found the sign across the street easily. Her eyes blinked several times before Amy crossed the street in a rush.

The light of McGinty's was off. Amy approached the familiar sign closer and found that the hours of operation had changed: only open on the weekends from 5:00PM to 1:00AM.

Amy pursed her lips in interest. She tried opening the front door.

It was locked.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy climbed up the fire escape out back. She remembered the trick she had to use in order to get to the old bathroom window: Amy, on the top step, had to maneuver her boots between the brick wall and climb up the gutter. She continued to climb the gutter and Amy found the window she had – on so many occasions – slipped into and out of.

The latch was open. Amy opened the window with her free hand while the other clung onto the gutter.

The window opened rigidly but Amy found a way to get her leg in through first.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy stepped out of the bathroom with her lips parted slightly. The bathroom had appeared to be unused for some time.

The apartment was not the one she remembered. The living room was filled with dust and old boxes. The pinball machine and billiard table – that had once been down in the bar – now occupied the living room. She touched the dusty edge of the pool table and walked across the apartment.

She turned the lock on the door that led to the bar.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

The bar was different.

Amy took her last step from the staircase and stared around in surprise. The building had been renovated and the entire back of the bar was gone. It was as if the bar had been cut in half. There was a wall that separated the bar from whatever it was the bar had lost its space too. McGinty's was now just a bar counter with stools.

The walls were a brighter green color and the place was clean. Amy realized that the new wall in McGinty's was cluttered with old pictures. She stepped forward to stare at the familiar photos…

It had been a McGinty's tradition to take a picture on Amy's birthday with everyone in the bar in it as well. In each picture Amy was sitting on a stool in front of the bar. Everyone in the bar was either beside her or behind the counter with Doc. There were eight photos – one for every birthday Amy had had at McGinty's – and in each picture were five people that had been in every photo: Doc, Amy, the twins, and Rocco.

Her eyes glazed over the photos and soon Amy heard the front door unlock itself and open.

Amy turned around in alarm – she had been successful in her breaking and entering.

But the old man walked in instead of the brigade of police officers Amy had expected.

Dressed in brown pants, white shirt, and green sweater, the owner struggled to step inside with his walker-cane.

His eyes – even with the small spectacles – struggled to see the figure standing in his bar.

"A-A-A-Amy?" Doc stuttered in surprise.

Amy nodded and turned fully to the man.

"Hi Doc."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: more to come! Reviews appreciated!


	12. Chapter 12 Long Lost Conversation

Author's Note: Thanks EVERYONE for the reviews! I would love to do some personal shout-outs but I'll save those for the upcoming chapters. I've also enabled Private Messaging on fanfiction so if you guys would like to message me – please feel free to do so!

I realize now that since we're in the _BS II: All Saints Day_ timeline things will feel a bit squeezed. Since the sequel practically goes over maybe four or five days – I am trying to find a way to get enough STORY in it. Will Murphy and Connor be popping up soon? We'll see, haha. I have a few ideas of what to do – and I'm thinking of continuing to write this fanfic as if there were a third film to the _BS_ movies… so your guess is as good as mine as to where the story is going haha.

Enjoy!... sorry for the delay! You'd think with it being the holidays I would be updating every day…but then again, it is the holidays…

Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! (Hope to update before then)

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Chapter Twelve: Long Lost Conversation**

Her throat felt dry as Amy watched Doc walk across the bar floor in a hurried motion. The cane in his hand didn't seem to help and Doc struggled to not only get to Amy but to embrace her as well.

Amy approached Doc in the same quick fashion and gently grabbed his arm. She helped the old man sit down on a table nearby. His lips were trembling – Amy waited for the usual "FUCK! ASS!" to escape his mouth. But Doc sat down at the closest chair in silence.

"Am-Am-Amy…" Doc muttered again. His eyes were wide and wet through his glasses. As Amy sat in a chair opposite Doc, his hands reached across the table to hold hers.

She wanted to recoil but Amy was saddened by how fragile he appeared.

He narrowed his eyes at her and asked, "H-How did ya get in?"

She raised one shoulder and grinned; Amy bit her lower lip and explained, "I came in through bathroom window. Upstairs."

A small chuckle heaved out of Doc as he tried to control his stuttering. He placed the back of his old hand to his mouth for a moment. Soon his hand was back into Amy's light grasp.

_Eight years…_ Amy thought as she stared at her uncle. "You're looking well."

Doc laughed and squeezed Amy's hands. "And you are j-j-j-ju-ju-ju-just a _vision_…" The old man pulled one of Amy's hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. When he looked back up Doc stared at Amy questionably. He squinted at her face and Doc asked, "Your eyes? Brown – are they?"

"Contacts," Amy said.

"Your hair…"

"It's lighter."

"Aye…"

The two sat in silence for a moment. Amy slowly took her own hands back and placed them into her lap.

Doc continued to smile at his niece. "H-H-How 'bout a drink?"

Amy nodded slowly. "A beer sounds good."

She didn't offer to get the drinks herself; Amy watched as the bar's owner rose from his chair and walked toward the counter. He stepped behind the counter and Amy took a new seat on a stool. She began to remove her coat and Amy placed it on the stool beside her. Rolling up the sleeves of her white blouse, Amy rested her hands on the counter. She traced the familiar indentures into the wooden counter and looked up.

His eyes were staring intently at her. Doc appeared to be embarrassed when he realized Amy had noticed.

A Guinness was set before her and Amy watched as Doc pouted himself a small glass of brandy.

"Welcome back," Doc said as he raised his glass in the air. Amy tipped her drink to him and drank in unison with Doc.

When another moment of silence had taken place, Doc rested his hands on the bar counter and asked, "What brings you here?"

Amy placed her glass back on the counter. "Business." She folded her hands in front of her. "Some art business."

Doc nodded in mock understanding. "What is it that you do now?"

"I'm an art administrator," she explained. Amy took a large sip from her beer. "Boring, mostly."

"But you're doing well?" Doc asked interested.

"Very," Amy admitted.

"How long will you be in town?"

Amy shrugged. "Depending on how well I do…maybe a week? Sometimes these things last a bit longer. A month at the most."

Doc: "Where you stayin' at?"

Amy: "Palmetto."

Doc: "Nice p-p-place."

Amy: "It is."

_Oh dear god…_ Amy thought. She wanted to stay but at the same time Amy had the urge to just get up and leave…

Doc asked, "T-T-Tell me how school went."

_Oh you'd like to know how college went. Let's see… undergraduate or graduate? There's a lot to cover…"_

Amy: "I have a master's in business and a bachelor's degree in art studies."

Doc seemed to struggle with what to ask next. He asked seriously, "Have you talked to your da?"

Amy: "He calls every week. Like clockwork. We don't talk about much. Business, mostly."

Doc: "Every week? Oh. Seems like he's doing a better job at keeping in touch…n-n-now that…"

Amy: "Now that Mom's gone."

Doc: "Aye." He rubbed his hands nervously together. "You didn't come to the service."

Amy: "I saw her before she died. I made my peace with it." She faced the disappointed look on her uncle. "She was cremated, uncle. If there had been a funeral I would have been there…"

Doc nodded. "She was your mother-"

"And I was a lot closer to Rocco than my own mother – yet I wasn't allowed to come back and make my peace with his death?" Amy suddenly blurted out.

The old man behind the counter slammed his hands on the counter. "Fuck Amy, I didn't want to fight-"

She laughed mockingly. Amy held her arms out and demanded, "What did you expect? Nice cheery reunion? I haven't seen you since I _left_ for school. You refused to let me come here – ergo, me being a bitter bitch, I didn't want you visiting me either. _Eight years,_ uncle, _eight years…_ a lot's happened since then."

"I know how much fuckin' time has passed," Doc argued. "I-I-I was trying to pr-pr-pro-prot – oh fuck – I was trying to keep you safe."

Amy shook her head. "Good job with that…" She looked up bitterly and retaliated: "Did you know I had a car accident a few years ago?"

He remained still. Doc shook his head sadly.

"And because of it…" Amy yelled, "I can't have children."

His mouth opened in surprise but Doc said nothing. For the first time since their reunion, Doc had stopped trembling.

Amy shook her head angrily and stood up. She grabbed her coat and began to put it on.

Doc begged, "Oh please. Amy. Do-Do-Don't leave."

He walked quickly around the bar. When he reached Amy Doc placed his hands on her arms.

"I know there's a lot of shit here between us," Doc whimpered. "I just… I just want us to talk and catch up. No mo' fightin'…"

Amy pressed her lips together. She shook her head and said, "I feel like if I keep talking to you…" She moved away to escape Doc's touch. "I'm just going to tell you all the terrible things I've wanted to tell you for so long." She shook her head. Amy regretted informing Doc of the car accident and its permanent effect on her.

Doc nodded in agreement. "I can't take back what I did or what I said…" he shook his head sadly, "I see how grown-up ya are…and it breaks my heart to see that I wasn't there for ya…when you n-n-n-needed me da most."

She tried to walk away but Doc asked, "Dinner tomorrow night?"

Her feet paused in its place but Amy didn't turn around.

"Come by da bar tomorrow around seven? I'll make dinner – right here – and we can catch up."

Amy turned around slowly with a face that looked unsure.

Doc took a few closer steps toward Amy. "Please, Amy? You came here tonight because you missed your home… well love, _home_ has missed you. Please. Tomorrow. Here. At seven?"

All the bitterness Amy had kept hidden for so long was dying to get out. Amy didn't mind just letting all of her angry emotions out…

She continued to stare at Doc blankly. Amy finally said: "Make it eight." She turned her heels quickly and Amy walked out of McGinty's doors.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Lydia nervously tapped her fingers against the beige countertop of the table. The hotel's dining hall was practically empty – the hostess waited by the entrance, bored, and Lydia appeared to be the only customer.

_It's Thursday... just a day before meeting with BU… we have so much work to do… _Lydia looked at her watch impatiently. Her eyes glanced over the organizer on the table. She then turned her attention to the cell phone resting beside Lydia's glass of water.

The young woman looked up in relief when Lydia spotted Amy walking toward her.

She rose from her chair and Lydia asked, "Sorry boss, I assumed we were meeting early."

Lydia was surprised suddenly. Amy was not dressed in her normal business attire – instead she wore jeans, sneakers, and a white baseball shirt with gray sleeves.

Amy motioned for Lydia to sit down. The tired twenty-five-year-old sat in her seat and leaned back lazily.

"My apologies; I woke up late," Amy admitted. She rubbed her face and used her fingers to comb through her hair.

Her head tilted at Amy as if Lydia had never seen her before. Amy noticed the confused look and asked, "What is it?"

"You're so…" Lydia began slowly and soon grinned. "So. Casual."

Amy looked down at herself. She looked at her baseball-T and half-smiled. "Yeah… I figured if we were just preparing for stuff – might as well be casual." She looked at Lydia. "And you have full permission to dress however you like."

Lydia cocked her head in interest.

Amy: "What?"

Lydia: "Permission to speak freely?"

Amy smirked then nodded.

"You're normally so… organized. Not that you aren't now – you tend to be right on the ball with stuff – it's just… you seem like you got other stuff on your mind?" Lydia asked.

She raised her shoulders in confusion. Amy bit her lower lip and admitted, "Yes, there are a few other things on my plate at that moment… but trust me: I'm on top of things. We have this whole day to discuss my meeting with Boston U tomorrow and we'll use the weekend to prep for T&F." Amy gave her secretary a reassuring look. "We'll get things done."

"I'm not concerned that we won't," Lydia laughed. She rested her chin on her propped-up arm. "There's just this immediate change in you. I've gotten to know you pretty well – your habits, routines, techniques, I think I know your personality really well… and here I have this Amy Jensen that's not staying up until three in the morning anxiously preparing for work but venturing out in South Boston." The young woman laughed again and shook her head. "I just wasn't expecting this change."

A small smile crept across Amy's face. She leaned back into her chair and accepted the cup of coffee delivered by the waiter. After taking a small sip from the white cup, Amy grinned devilishly and said: "Let's get back to work."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Despite the tiring prep-work done with Lydia for eight hours, Amy stood outside of McGinty's at exactly seven o'clock.

The air was getting colder and Amy tugged at the gray scarf wrapped around her neck. She found her reflection in a window of the building next door. Amy checked her clothing – maroon sweater, jeans, and black heels – and, after finding herself decent, found the courage to step through the bar's door.

Amy entered the empty bar. The lights were on but no one was around. She looked around in confusion until Amy realized Doc was probably upstairs cooking on the old stove.

Upon her realization Amy could hear music coming from above.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy entered the old apartment and immediately found Doc playing around in the kitchen. The old man hadn't noticed her and continued with his work cooking grilled cheese sandwiches.

The music came from an old record player sitting on a bench nearby. Jazz filled the room…

"Amy!" Doc called happily.

Amy smiled softly as she placed her black purse on a nearby chair. She began to remove her scarf but Doc came toward her and offered to hang it on a hook in the wall.

He was dressed in Sunday's best: black slacks, white dress shirt, and a red sweater vest (the one Amy had given to Doc as a Christmas present one year).

Doc was able to approach Amy without his cane. He took Amy's hands into his and leaned forward to kiss Amy on the cheek.

The contact was awkward. Yet Amy was happy for it. When Doc pulled back he grinned and said, "I'm makin' grilled cheeses."

"Smells good," Amy informed her uncle. "Anything I can do?"

Doc nodded happily. "If you could, run downstairs and get some glasses and wine. We'll eat. Then we can talk."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"Dad was in town for business last year and visited me. It was nice. We talked business, mostly, I think he picks that particular topic because he understands it so well," Amy said as she finished her glass of wine. Doc filled the glass up and waited patiently for Amy to continue. Two empty plates rested on the pool table. Sitting in stools close to each other, Doc and Amy had gone back and forth with different stories. "I accepted Dad's help to get my master's degree. He really liked that. He's married. You know? To the mistress he had while he was with mom – while I was a kid." The subject of the mistress wasn't difficult for Amy – she didn't even speak of the woman with distaste. "You know his wife had two kids from a previous marriage? And I thought the guy never liked kids."

Doc seemed surprise by Amy's way of presenting the information – she didn't seem bitter about the situation nor was there a sign of disgust in the topic.

Amy had forgiven her father… in a way… and Doc was glad for it.

"Aye, I heard he got married. To her…" Doc shook his head. "I di-di-didn't go to da fuckin' wedding. No way I could. But you understand."

"I do."

Doc nodded slowly. He looked up at Amy and asked sadly, "There wasn't much pain for her in the end? Right? My poor Samantha…"

Amy leaned in close and said gently, "She was fine, uncle. She had prepared herself. And I think she went peacefully. I saw her just weeks before she died. She told me…" Amy took another sip of her wine. "She told me it would all be okay. And somehow… I believed her."

"Your mother loved you, lass," Doc whispered sadly. "She loved you."

Amy's head bobbed slowly. It wasn't necessarily a nod of agreement.

"What about you?" Amy asked. "Why a nursing home?"

"It's not a fuckin' nursin' home," Doc laughed. "It's just an apartment complex filled with old fucks like me. It wasn't good for an old man like me to be livin' above a bar. But Christ's sake – I hate some of those old bags. Talking about nothing and all their aches and pains. Fuck 'em."

Amy raised her glass. "I'll drink to that."

Doc laughed as he took a sip of his own glass. He shakily set the glass down on the green felt of the pool table.

"May I ask something personal?" Doc asked after a few seconds of silence had passed. Amy nodded. "That ring on your finger…" Amy stared down at her hand. "Quite beautiful. Very elegant." He smiled slowly. "Did a man give you that?"

Amy held her hand out for Doc to examine the ring more clearly.

"His name is Simon," Amy explained plainly. "He's the son of the man I work for."

"Good man, is he?" Doc asked.

"Yes," Amy thought aloud. "He's… he's like me."

"Good," Doc grinned. "So he's brilliant and beautiful and wonderful."

"All of the above, plus more," Amy joked. She placed her right hand into her left and stared at the ring again. She looked up at Doc nervously. "He's asked me to marry him." Doc suddenly froze. Amy held her hand to him again and said, "It's an engagement ring. It's not on the left hand because I haven't given him an answer yet. I'm supposed to use this business trip to decide."

"Oh Amy…" Doc said while taking a deep breath. "That's… that's incredible." He looked at the emotionless face of his niece. "Do you love this man?"

She turned her gaze away from the ring and to the pool table. Amy pressed her lips together as she thought of what to say. She turned to Doc and said, "I've lost every man I have ever loved. I still feel like I can't get them back." She twisted the ring around her finger. "And I know that if I say yes… I'll never lose him. But unfortunately… I have this dark feeling that… I won't really care if I do lose him."

Doc shook his head sadly. "You can't let what happen with your dad get in the way of it. I thought things were good-"

"Uncle it's not like that," Amy released a quiet laugh. "I did lose my father. I lost him when I was ten. And because of him I lost my mother at the same time." She stared at Doc sadly. "I lost Mom way before she died, Doc." Amy inhaled and exhaled slowly. "My parents gave me up to focus on each other. As a kid… I was given to you." Amy smiled sadly. "And at eighteen I lost you too. And you're not the only one I lost at that time…"

The old man beside her looked confused.

Amy took another sip of the wine. She wiped her lips with her wrist and Amy stared at her uncle sadly.

"Have…" she began slowly, "have you heard… from _them…_"

Doc sat still for a moment. He began to move uncomfortably in his stool. "I'm sorry love. I haven't. Not since the day I went to them at the hospital. It was just a day after you last saw them…"

Amy nodded quietly.

"But," Doc said excitedly, "I do know they're okay."

She looked up. Amy, with a terrified look on her face, asked, "How?"

"God told me," Doc explained. "He told me, he did, 'the boys are okay, Doc, they're okay'…"

Amy nodded again. "God… told you?"

"Aye," Doc said, "he comes to me sometimes – in dreams – and t-t-tells me that they're okay. Just to reassure me. Good man, God is."

"I'm sure," Amy scoffed. "So you talk to God a lot?"

"I said only sometimes," Doc snapped. "No need to get rude. I know how you feel about da Lord."

"Yes," Amy grinned. She stared at her empty glass of wine. "I think it's time I go."

"Already?" Doc asked.

Amy rose from her stool and went to the wall where her scarf hung.

Doc stood up slowly and walked toward Amy. She turned around after wrapping the scarf around her neck and smiled. The old man handed the young woman her purse and grinned. "When will I see you next?"

"Umm," Amy thought aloud, "it may be awhile. This weekend will be very busy for me. In fact the busy weekend starts tomorrow. Sometime after Monday." She reached her hand out for Doc to shake it. The old man took the impersonal gesture with a soft smile. "I'll call you," Amy finished. Before she made her way down the stairs, Amy turned back to Doc and said, "Thank you for the meal."

Doc watched as his niece disappeared down the stairs. He placed a hand over his chest and prayed aloud, "Be with her, oh Lord."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

_Account,_

_It's safe to say the weekend was hell for me. I met with Boston University and did my best to assimilate the business with Aurora-Ansell. Arts for All was perfect with Boston U. They loved the idea, they loved Ansell's company, and they loved me too. But the challenge was still there, businessly-speaking._

_Then came the day for me to meet with Thompson & Falcon. The Bastards. They didn't like that I came from a nice, big city and that I appeared too "businessy" for them. At the time of meeting with them, I could tell they hated me from first glance._

_The hell-week of work ended that Monday evening._

_But that night, at the Palmetto Hotel, I had been walking with Lydia through the lobby when I overheard the news on the big screen…_

"Holy shit," Lydia said surprised.

Amy turned her attention to the TV. Some of the hotel's guests and its employers surrounding the large plasma screen.

"What's happened?" Amy asked a bellhop standing beside her.

The young man bit his lip. "I think the Saints are back in town."

Amy froze. Her heart seemed to stop beating and her eyelids wouldn't blink…

"What?" Lydia asked.

The bellhop explained, "A priest got shot – Saints style – at some big Catholic church. They're not sure it's them – but it looks like the deal."

Amy's eyes were frozen on the screen. The reporter from Channel 29 News explained that the Saints – the ones responsible for the Yakavetta courtroom shooting – were the best suspects.

Lydia had asked Amy who the Saints were, but when she received no reply, took the explanation from the bellhop.

As the hotel's guests and staff murmured and whispered about the priest's murder, Amy found herself getting lightheaded. She tried to reach for Lydia's arm but grabbed nothing but air.

Her knees hit the floor hard and Amy's vision blurred as she collapsed on the hotel floor.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: sorry for the delay in the updating! But at least I got it to this point! Reviews much appreciated. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!


	13. Chapter 13 The Boys Are Back In Town

**Chapter Thirteen: The Boys Are Back In Town**

As consciousness returned Amy realized how ill and embarrassed she felt. It was obvious her body had been placed on one of the hotel lobby's couches for her long legs dangled over the arm rest and her head had been placed on a too-comfortable, lush pillow.

The hotel's manager was frantic – he paced in front of Amy's blurred vision muttering whether he should call an ambulance. Lydia, the only calm individual, notified the curious crowd: "Please everyone. Just take a step back. Everything will be fine… no, an ambulance will not be necessary at the moment."

Someone noticed Amy had returned from her weak slumber – the crowd closed in again and Amy heard Lydia shout at the people: "People please! Take several steps back! We don't want to overwhelm her." Amy felt her secretary's hands enclose on hers. "Amy? Are you okay? How's your head?"

The white blur ceased and Amy clearly stared around at the hotel – at least ten of its guests surrounded her with the entire staff as an audience as well.

As her eyes came to focus, the young woman realized that most of the people in the hotel were still intently listening to the news of the possible Saints murder.

"I'm fine," Amy mumbled as her eyes caught the television screen. An old sketch of the three Saints – made from the Yakavetta shooting – had been revealed on the upper right hand corner of the news channel.

Lydia rubbed Amy's arm slowly. Amy looked up to find Lydia giving her a glass of water that a hotel waiter had given to her.

The cold liquid hit Amy's mouth hard and she struggled to keep from spitting out of the corners of her mouth. She placed a tired hand over her face and Amy shook her head. She slowly tried to sit up on the couch and touched her head.

It hurt.

"She could have a concussion ya know!" a woman from the group yelled.

Lydia rolled her eyes and stared at Amy. "How are you? You didn't hit the floor too hard – a man caught you by the waist as you went down. Would you like for me to call a paramedic for you? Or would you rather go to the hospital? Or-"

"Third option," Amy laughed. "We leave me the hell alone." She grinned at the crowd and waved her hand at them. "I'm fine, guys. Please. Go one with your day. I'm fine."

Slowly, and with Lydia's assistance, Amy got up from the couch and ignored the confused glances of the people around her.

"She must really have a thing against the Saints…" a man whispered to his wife – loud enough for Amy to hear and stare at the couple.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Lydia handed Amy a small glass of ice water. Resting comfortably in her suite's bed, Amy rolled up the sleeves of her blue sweater and accepted the glass. She drank slowly and rubbed her temple. Amy had the tiniest bump on her head and a hotel guest, who had luckily been a nurse, had caught up with Amy and Lydia before they had made it to the elevator on their way up. "No concussion," the nurse had declared, "but get some rest. Drink a lot of water."

The worried woman – Lydia – sat down on the edge of Amy's bed. "Are you sure you're alright?" she shook her head. "I hope you're not stressing out too much-"

"I'm not," Amy said quickly in defense. "It's not stress. I'm just.." She froze on her words. _I'm just concerned that two men – two men I love very much – are back in town. Why would I be concerned? It's because they are Boston's infamous "Saints" and they like to kill bad guys… _"I'm just tired. I was up late. And I should probably stop drinking booze at night before bed." Amy smiled reassuringly at Lydia. "Don't be alarmed. I'm fine. Promise."

Lydia wrinkled her nose. "I know the last thing you want me to do is to contact Ansell about this… but I'm worried. You may not be stressing but maybe right now you're not at the healthiest-"

"Lydia," Amy snapped. She sat up further in bed and glared down at the small woman. "I'm fine. No need to call Ansell. Now. Take note."

Before Lydia could protest any further, she grabbed her organizer from the edge of the bed. Clicking the top of her pen, Lydia readied herself to write.

Amy: "We've done well with Boston University. They're on board. We should visit on the weekend to settle a few things properly. Now… Thompson & Falcon are still hesitant. I have a lunch meeting with George Thompson Friday afternoon. That evening I'm meeting with the board. That will basically be my final chance at winning them over. For the time being we need to figure out the right angle to get T&F to trust us." She bit her lip. "They don't like that we're from the big city. We have to assure them this isn't a hostile takeover – we just want to merge to do good things." Amy smiled. "Got it?"

Nodding slowly and writing quickly, Lydia looked back up at Amy. "I'll go ahead and prepare all final papers just in case. I'll even research T&F further to see if we can dig a little deeper into their stomachs."

"Good girl," Amy winked. "Get me papers, research, all necessary documents, and this week shouldn't be too bad. We'll be home soon."

Lydia sighed. "It's only been like a week…" She shook her head sadly. "I miss my husband."

Amy pursed her lips. "Listen: no need to take care of me. And take an hour or so off to relax. Go call your husband. 'Kay?"

A wide smile crossed Lydia's face. She nodded thankfully and stood up. "Are you sure? I can stay and tend to you?"

"You're my secretary, not my doctor," Amy grinned. "Take care of hubby first, and then take care of my business. I'll call if I need anything else."

"Gotcha. Thanks boss," Lydia playfully saluted before exiting Amy's bedroom.

Amy shook her head as she watched her secretary leave.

There was a moment when Amy wondered if she should order room service. It was getting closer to evening-time and Amy needed to eat dinner. She hadn't eaten since before noon and her fainting spell required her to regain some lost energy.

Although she knew she had to eat, Amy found she had no appetite.

_Are they back? _She wondered fearfully. _Killing again? But it's not like them… they kill bad guys. The priest? A bad guy?_

_It's not them._

_It IS them!_

_It couldn't be… they kill bad men…_

_Maybe the priest did something bad._

_Maybe._

_Or maybe the priest was a good guy – and they're just getting their jollies killing ALL types of people-_

Amy shook her head. She hated not knowing.

She hated not knowing where she stood.

For years Amy had kept up-to-date on the public's opinion of the Saints. The city of Boston was practically torn in half on whether the Saints were doing a good deed or if they were vengeful vigilantes taking the law into their own hands.

Online blogs and newspaper sites, where the public could comment, had been Amy's favorite sources of information. So many people vouched that the Saints were good men while others argued that they were merely searching for fame and glory.

Amy had never decided if they were doing the right or wrong thing. _Regardless_, Amy thought, _it's illegal. It may not be morally wrong… but they just can't do this… I mean… think of the effect it will have on young people. If video games can cause kids to behave violently – then this sort of act of vigilantism can lead to a lot of chaos…_

_Is it morally right?..._

Amy hated it all. She hated not knowing their true motive. She hated not understand how they involved themselves with all of this. She hated that – even as a third party objective – she couldn't make up her mind whether she was for or against the Saints.

She wondered whether she should call Doc…

_Would he know? Would he know… anything?_

Amy wondered what Doc thought about the Saints. _Duh, he's all for them… he still loves them…_

_Do I?_

She couldn't bear the thought of them… not even their names, their looks…

Amy, for a brief moment, thought she could smell cigarettes and alcohol…

_Stop it Amy, _she argued with herself. _You can't think about them. You have to focus on work. Just stop it. They're gone. Just ghosts. Even IF they were back…_

_They'd want nothing to do with me._

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

_Everything was black and white…_

_Amy stood alone in McGinty's. She looked around and realized she was wearing her green prom dress. _

_The bar appeared empty. Amy called out: "Hello?"_

_She heard a noise behind her. Amy whirled with the train of the dress wrapping around her ankles._

_Rocco._

_He stood behind the bar with his hands placed firmly on the wooden counter._

_She took small steps toward him. Amy's mouth parted in surprise and she felt tears burn her eyes…_

"_Rocco…" Amy's small voice asked._

_The man before her, clad in his usual trench coat and glasses, smiled. He shrugged, causing his thick, black hair to sway, and laughed, "Must be me."_

_Amy placed her hands on the bar's counter. Rocco reached over and touched his fingertips to hers. As Amy struggled to understand what was happening, her old friend lifted her hands and kissed them._

"_You're looking good, kid," Rocco grinned cockily._

_She rolled her eyes. Amy held her hands out. "This isn't me."_

"_Looks like you."_

"_I guess." Amy shook her head in confusion. "I'm dreaming."_

"_Obviously."_

"_Because… you're dead."_

_Rocco pursed his lips. "Shit, huh?" He released a large laugh that filled the whole room. "You always were the smart one."_

_Amy stared tearfully at the dead man. "I miss you." She stared seriously at Rocco. "Every day."_

"_You've been doin' alright without me," Rocco noted. "What brought me here?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_You're dreaming about me, sweetheart, now…" Rocco leaned over the bar secretively. "Whatcha been thinkin'? Something dirty?"_

_Amy laughed. "No. Nothing dirty." Rocco nodded his head at her. She tilted her head to the side and said, "I guess… with the murder… I've thought about you and… and them…"_

"_Ah yeah. Them." Rocco ran a hand through his hair. "You know it wasn't them, kiddo."_

"_Do I?"_

"_Duh," Rocco blurted out. "The boys wouldn't do that. You know it."_

"_I don't think I know much about what they do."_

"_You'll find out," Rocco smiled slowly, "eventually."_

"_What?"_

"_I'm jus' sayin' kid," Rocco replied gently, "just prepare yourself. Be open-minded. Be you."_

"_I don't know what you mean," Amy asked sadly. She felt lighter suddenly. Her body was slowly drifting away from the counter…_

"_I'll be back again darlin', don't be sad," Rocco called out._

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

A gasp escaped her mouth as Amy shot up in bed. Her hair was wild around her face – the sweat dripping down her forehead and neck caused Amy's hair to stick all over.

She felt tears on her face. Amy looked down at her fingertips to eye the curious water droplets.

She hadn't cried in years. Amy shook her head angrily. Her hand went to her chest… Amy found her heart was beating faster…

The sobs were fighting their way through – but Amy kept them on lockdown. She wouldn't allow herself to cry again.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

"Are the Saints back?"… "Investigations have taken place – the FBI are back-"… "It's been eight years since the Yakavetta shooting…"… "They've been responsible for over twenty deaths-"…

Amy bypassed the hotel bar on her way to the gym. Guests of the hotel were scattered everywhere to view different TVs and channels. The news was filled with curiosity regarding whether the Saints were responsible for the death of the priest.

She ignored the final TV screen as she entered the gym. Luckily Amy found she was the gym's only occupant; the TVs in the gym were off too.

Finding a treadmill Amy began a ferocious run. Her face was turning red and she could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of her neck. Her yellow T-shirt was soaking through and Amy became increasingly aware of how uncomfortable her tight running shorts were.

But nothing mattered. She ran as fast as she could; Amy continued to increase the speed and to use settings for difficult workouts.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Lydia, with her hair pulled back and dressed in jeans and pink T-shirt, entered the gym. She clutched her organizer by her side and watched Amy running intensely on the treadmill.

"Good morning, boss," Lydia called over the noises of the machine.

Amy slowed the speed of the treadmill. Walking at a slow pace, Amy waved her hand and said, "Happy Tuesday."

Her forehead wrinkled as Lydia stared cautiously at Amy. "Should you really be running, Amy?" Lydia asked softly. "You fainted yesterday. You should take it easy."

"I'm fine Lydia," Amy promised. She stopped the treadmill and hopped off. Amy raised her arms in the air and stretched. "I just need to lay off the late-night booze and remember to eat all three meals in the day." She laughed. "So what's on the agenda?"

Lydia: "Well I'm going to head over to BU to have them sign a few papers. I'm bringing along your letter of thanks, too. Then I have to make a few calls and settle some arrangements and meetings coming up in the next several months. Got an email from Roderick last night saying we got a few more accounts to settle now…"

Amy: "So it's just Thompson & Falcon we're worried about now, right?"

Lydia: "Yup. If you could give me some future dates that you would like to go ahead and save as non-work days I can-"

Amy: "'Haven't gone on vacation in years. I don't have anything important coming up. Just schedule my year for me."

Lydia eyed the ring on Amy's right hand. She half-smiled and asked, "Are you sure? I mean… if there's an important _date_…like a very important _day…_ that you would like to have saved-off…"

Amy cocked her head and laughed. She winked at her secretary wryly and Amy said, "Just make the necessary arrangements."

Lydia bowed playfully. "And what will you be doing today?"

Amy and Lydia began to walk out of the gym together. Wiping away the sweat from her face on her T-shirt's sleeve, Amy said, "I have some final drafts of papers to overlook. Send a few e-mails. Make a lot of calls. And tonight I'm going out."

"Where?"

"A bar. To visit an old friend."

"Sounds like fun."

"I highly doubt it will be."

"Why do you say that?"

"The main topic of discussion will be… unpleasant… for me."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She stood in front of the vanity half-naked. Amy stared at her reflection blankly: she wore black hot pants and matching black bra. In one hand was a pair of jeans while a pair of gray slacks rested in the other. _Casual or business?_ Amy thought.

Her hair was wet from the recent shower and the wet strands dangled against her face.

Amy thought about her dream from the previous night: _the green prom dress…_

She had worn the same dress to senior prom. Eric Beacon had been Amy's prom date – as promised – despite the fact that they had broken up before then.

It had been eight years since she had worn that dress. Amy couldn't remember what had happened to it. To dream about it made Amy feel uneasy.

And Rocco…

Amy felt a great weight on her chest and she realized her body was reacting emotionally and physically to the thought of her dead friend.

_I miss them… I hate them… I hate what they've done… I hate that they're gone…_

"Damn them," Amy said aloud. Her own voice scared her.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

It was close to one in the morning when Amy stared at the small round clock on the center table. She relaxed in the hotel suite's couch with an empty glass beside her.

She felt cold and warm at the same time. Her body ached for bed but her mind would never let her sleep.

Amy wanted to get out. She wanted to go to McGinty's and confront Doc about everything.

_I want to tell you how much I hated you… about how angry I was that you didn't let me come back to Boston… that you shut me out of everything… that you didn't tell me about Rocco's death until it was too late to come to a service…_

Amy thought of them…

_And you… I loved you both. So much. You were more than just friends to me. You were my soul mates. _

_You were my best friend…_

_And you… you were the man I loved…_

_And I hated you both for leaving. I hated you for…well, doing what you do…_

In gray slacks, maroon heels, and a long-sleeve, black shirt, Amy grabbed her dark red leather jacket from the closet by the suite door.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She had walked to the bar on foot. Before she could see the sign, Amy muttered to herself in drunken rants and stomped on the sidewalk harder each time.

Her wavy hair blew against the icy wind but Amy couldn't feel the temperature outside.

Amy's hands were shoved into her pockets, not to keep them warm, but to keep her balled-up fists in place.

The rage in her was all alcohol – Amy knew this, deep down, but she couldn't fight the urge to tell Doc off.

_I know I'm a bit drunk… but I have to tell Doc everything. About all the horrible things I've felt – and all the things I believe he did wrongly to me…_

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She entered McGinty's.

Amy was surprised to find the door was locked but hadn't been closed all the way…

She suddenly became fearful.

The drunken rage faded and Amy was careful not to make any noise. _Did someone break in?_

Amy noticed that people were definitely in the bar – but they were upstairs.

She heard heavy footsteps above and music playing from the record player.

_Doc okay?_ Amy wondered.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy kept her back to the wall as she carefully went up the steps to the apartment.

Her heals were quiet against the wood and Amy bit her lip with each careful step.

The noise got louder as she got up and she heard shouting and laughing.

But soon the noise subsided and Amy could barely hear anything…

_Did they hear me? _Amy thought.

She was close to the top step and to the apartment door…

As Amy heard a voice start to speak again, she pressed her lips together and finished her last step loudly.

The voice was suddenly familiar…

"Would someone please get over here and-"

Doc: "FUCK!"

Voice: "-me up tha-"

Doc: "ASS!"

The heavy weight on her chest returned.

Amy swung the door open – she heard the sound of the door hitting the adjacent wall first and her eyes went immediately to Doc who was staring at her with a terrified glance.

Her eyes took in the whole picture at once: _Doc standing by the pool table, an unfamiliar Hispanic with his eyes wide and mouth dropping at the sight of Amy…_

And Connor. He was standing on the opposite side of the pool table with his hands pressed on the edge.

And Murphy. He was lying on the floor with his legs propped up on the pool table.

The twins had a similar expression: surprise mixed with shock, horror, and excitement.

"Amy?" Connor asked.

Murphy scrambled to stand on his feet.

"Who's the chick?" the Hispanic asked.

"Oh, Amy…" Doc muttered.

Amy's hands were glued to her sides and her eyes were wide. Her mouth parted gently and her chest appeared motionless – as if her heart had stopped beating.

Connor and Murphy approached Amy side by side.

The two eyed her carefully and Connor began to smile.

"Amy, my love, you look…" Connor said in disbelief. His eyes looked wet with tears.

Murphy looked at Amy with a grin and nodded. "Good to see you, Amy…"

Connor narrowed his eyes at Amy. She had remained still and quiet the whole time. He waved his hand in front of her face and Amy took a step back.

They were four feet away from each other and Murphy and Connor moved as if they wanted to hold her.

Amy took another step back.

"You're…" she began slowly.

"Amy, you alright?" Connor asked gently. All the man could think about was taking Amy into his arms… but she looked so fragile and afraid that Connor didn't dare touch her yet.

"You're…" Amy started again quietly.

Murphy took a step closer to Amy. His blue eyes met her brown ones. He noticed that her eyes were a difficult color. He shook his head and stared seriously at the woman again. "You alright, love?"

Amy snapped out of her catatonic state suddenly. She shook her head angrily and turned her glare from Connor to Murphy.

"You're…_old,_" Amy snapped with a hint of disgust in her voice.

Before Connor and Murphy could laugh or say anything-

Amy fainted to the floor.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Hope you guys liked it! And I hope I didn't rush things – but I was excited to get the boys back. I will try and update ASAP! Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!


	14. Chapter 14 Make a Choice

Hope everyone had a fantastic New Year's!

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

**Chapter Fourteen: Make a Choice**

_Amy sat at the bar with Rocco sitting close to her. The man took a long drag from the small bit of his cigarette; discarding what was left of the butt in the ashtray, Rocco sighed and patted Amy on the back. The feeling of his hand made Amy want to cry again._

"_What do I do Rocco?"_

"_What you mean kiddo?"_

_She rubbed her temples with both hands. Amy: "My head keeps spinning. I'm so confused."_

_Rocco nodded and laughed gently. "I did warn you."_

"_This is _just_ a dream, right? I mean… my own subconscious is psychoanalyzing, well, me?"_

"_Maybe. Or maybe my ghost – or some shit – is trying to give ya some good advice."_

"_Advice?"_

"_Where do you go from here…"_

_Amy stared into the man's face – she wished he would remove the sunglasses._

"_I miss you, Rocco."_

"_I'm here with you babe," Rocco whispered gently. He leaned in close to Amy's face. "Always."_

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

A lemony smell forced Amy back to consciousness. _Duh, it is a lemon._ Amy's eyes opened to see a lemon slice touching the tip of her nose.

"Doc," Amy whined. She brushed off the old man's arm.

"Oh thank God," Doc sighed.

She heard him laugh and Doc removed the lemon from her face.

Her head spun as her eyes adjusted to the light. Amy noticed she was lying uncomfortably on the bar counter. The leather jacket, which had been removed, was used as a pillow.

Amy touched her forehead and found a cold, moist bar rag resting on her head.

"Ye alright love?" Doc asked. Amy felt his hand touch her cheek. "You were out for a good two hours."

Her vision repaired itself as Amy slowly sat up.

Amy stared around the bar, confused, and understood what had happened recently was not a dream.

_After all, Doc's not strong enough to carry me downstairs then put me on the bar counter…_

"Listen carefully d-d-deary," Doc instructed. Amy rubbed her face and met the man's serious glare. "Listen: you got t-two choices. Either _FUCK! ASS! _leave now and forget about dis place…forget about what you've seen. Go back to yer normal life. Or…" Doc's hand rested tenderly on Amy's shoulder. "Go upstairs. And say 'hullo'…"

Her throat turned dry and Amy's eyes went to the direction of the stairs.

Amy's glance then turned to the ring on her finger…

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.


	15. Chapter 15 Hello

**Chapter Fifteen: Hello**

Amy stood outside of McGinty's in the cold. She had left her jacket inside as well as a confused

uncle.

She rubbed her numb arms and bit her lower lip. The autumn air bullied her as Amy shook her head at herself.

_Run away… _Amy thought sadly… _Or go back inside…_

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy returned to the bar. Doc sat on a stool holding her jacket in his trembling hands. She completely bypassed the old man and Amy – with a blank stare – walked up the stairs to the above apartment.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She opened the door and gaped at the three men before her. The man Amy did not recognize sat on the edge of the pool table with a beer in his hand.

Connor leaned against the pool table with a confused look. Murphy was sitting on top of the table, Indian-style, and his face was buried in his hands.

"Amy…" Connor breathed. Murphy suddenly looked up.

"Hello…" Amy said awkwardly.

She quickened her pace and held her breath. Amy walked toward Connor. Connor, aware that she was coming closer, removed himself from the pool table's space.

The thirty-five-year-old man opened his arms and caught Amy as she ran into his chest. Connor closed his eyes and a smile crossed his face.

His arms were tight around her, strong, and Amy buried her face into his neck.

_He still has the smell of beer and cigarettes…_

When Amy finally took a breath, she felt her chest in pain and her eyes burning with tears that needed release.

"Connor…" Amy whimpered into the man's body. She hadn't released her grip nor had she taken the time to look up into his face.

Her body was lifted into the air and Amy felt Connor spin her.

She laughed.

Her hands held on tighter to the man's back. Amy wrapped her hand around his head and finally looked into Connor's face.

Connor was laughing and smiling and suddenly he kissed Amy. Their lips touched for a brief second – Connor began to place kisses all over Amy's cheeks and neck.

"Good to see ya lass!" Connor called out.

Amy's feet were back on the floor. She placed her hands on Connor's shoulder and examined the man in front of her. Connor's hands were on Amy's waist – he was making his own investigation of the woman in front of him.

"You look fuckin' good," Connor noted. "Really good. Damn. Still beautiful. Twenty-five? Really?"

"And you…" Amy smiled. She touched Connor's face and gently slapped his cheek. "What an old man."

Connor shrugged. "I still look good, don't I?"

"Of course," Amy laughed. She giggled nervously and ran a hand through her hair. Connor released his hold on Amy.

Amy's eyes went to Murphy.

The other MacManus twin had his hands stuck into his pockets. He half-smiled when Murphy noticed Amy eyeing him.

"Murphy…" Amy whispered with a shy grin.

Murphy's smile grew bigger.

He practically ran toward Amy and wrapped his arms around her waist. Amy was being spun around again. Her arms were tight around Murphy's neck and Amy was cheek-to-cheek with him.

The stubble of his chin rubbed against Amy's as Murphy kissed the woman's neck and cheek.

Murphy placed Amy back on the floor and placed his hands on her shoulders. He looked Amy up and down and Murphy nodded his head approvingly. "I'll have ta agree with my brother – you look fuckin' good."

Amy released a laugh – which suddenly gave her tears the freedom they desired. She wept happily suddenly, taking the men off guard, and Amy placed her hand over her face.

"Oh, don't cry love," Murphy whispered gently. He pulled Amy closer to him and the woman took the opportunity to hug him again. She pressed her lips against Murphy's collarbone; Amy's eyes were buried into his shoulder.

A third hand, Connor's, rubbed Amy's back gently. She could hear Connor's voice trying to calm her: "It's a'right love. It's okay. We've missed you."

Amy removed her wet face from Murphy's shirt. She continued to stare up at her old friend. Amy turned around and flew back into Connor's arms.

"I've m-m-missed you guys…" Amy stuttered as she tried to get herself together. Her chest heaved with sobs and her eyes continued to release salty tears.

The unknown man by the pool table cleared his throat.

Amy turned her attention away from the MacManus boys toward the Hispanic.

"Amy," Connor laughed, "this is our friend – Romeo."

"Oh, hello," Amy smiled warmly at the man.

Romeo approached the group and held his hand out to Amy. She accepted Romeo's hand and smiled. The man kissed the back of Amy's hand and winked: "Hola señorita."

"Now behave yourself Rome," Murphy warned.

"What?" Romeo asked innocently. "You guys get all the kisses from the pretty lady."

Amy laughed. "It's nice to meet you Romeo."

Romeo nodded and gave Amy's hand back to her. "So…"

"So…" Amy echoed.

She turned around to stare at Connor and Murphy again.

The men moved closer to Amy and suddenly-

With both hands, Amy slapped Connor and Murphy.

"Oy!" Connor yelled out of surprise. "What tha fuck was that for?"

"THAT! was for leaving eight years ago with no visit, no phone call, no e-mail, no fucking letter - nothing!" Amy barked angrily. She turned to Murphy. "THAT! was for suddenly deciding to take the law into your own goddamn hands and start killing people! Do you guys realize you're _wanted_ men! And the priest-"

"Hey we didn't kill 'im," Murphy said defensively while rubbing face.

"Well then, let me be the first one to congratulate you guys on making a mess of things!" Amy snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I want to know what the hell happened! What happened after St. Patty's – and Rocco…"

Connor placed his hands in the air in front of Amy's face. "Ssshhh, love, we'll explain everything. We promise. First…"

"We want to hear about you," Murphy laughed. "We want to know what's happened with you."

"Lots. Lots of uninteresting things," Amy grinned wryly. "Okay now – your turn."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Just a few quick updates. I'll update a longer chapter soon – with much more interaction between Amy, Connor, and Murphy. Happy New Year!


	16. Chapter 16 Eight YearsFeels Longer

**Chapter Sixteen: Eight Years… Feels Longer**

Her mouth felt dry and her brain went blank. Once Connor had finished telling the end of their story, Amy let her hands fall into her lap and her eyes closed for a short moment. There had been a lot of details in Connor and Murphy's tale about the last eight years; there had been a lot of processing for Amy in the past two hours. Amy stared at her watch – read it was six o'clock in the morning – and sighed.

She sat on the old couch in the apartment. Amy didn't remove the plastic covering and an old blanket that had been placed there. Her shins nudged against her chest and Amy felt her toes point to each other. Her hands rested on her knees and her eyes stared blankly at the pool table.

Connor and Murphy sat on the opposite sides of the young woman. Connor's arm rested above Amy's head while Murphy stared intently at the quiet female. While Connor inquired mentally whether he should pull the girl into his arms for comfort, Murphy struggled with the secret desire to just stare at Amy forever.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Murphy had missed her. _Damn she's gorgeous, _he had thought while watching her listen to Connor talk.

He noticed that the eight years had been good to her. But Murphy knew better. Eight years was never easy. For anyone. Even for himself and his brother.

Her cheekbones were more defined – due to age and the loss of some weight. Her eyes were a different color; but Murphy was able to clearly remember those dark green eyes…

Despite the change of style and color in her hair, it had never been what made Amy, Amy.

Her physique was different. Not better. Different. But beautiful. Elegant. She was just as perfect as her teen years, but now, as a woman, she was sexier, bold, and charismatic.

The clothes suggested she was a business woman now. However Murphy had already known that. In half the time Amy had passed out, Doc had given a few details about Amy's life to the MacManus brothers.

The eight years had been tough. Murphy could never have imagined Doc and Amy having a falling-out.

Car accident… Amy could never have children…

Murphy then eyed the ring on Amy's hand. It wasn't an engagement ring – yet – but a question. A question Amy had not yet answered.

If Doc had known about the short-relationship Amy and Murphy once had, the old man wouldn't have delivered the news with such excitement and dismay.

"She can't let herself be ha-ha-happy," Doc had said. "The man is a good man. I think she loves him. She's j-j-just scared. Too many issues with the men in her life. I b-b-better see that girl married soon… for her own sake. Not that the g-g-girl needs marryin', she just needs a bit o' happiness. And a family of her own can do dat."

Murphy took a second glance at the ring. It was something a rich man would give to a woman just to impress her.

He didn't like the square frame surrounding the diamond.

And Murphy instinctively didn't like the man that had asked Amy to marry him.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor stared at the silent Amy. He had just finished the story of his and Murphy's life in Ireland. _She just needs a moment to let it sink in…_Connor thought sadly. For the first time he noticed how his and Murphy's leaving had affected Amy. She was quiet and cold. Her body language alerted Connor that she was not to be touched in that moment.

He just wanted to hug the girl. Since the moment Connor saw Amy enter the apartment, he had just wanted to hold her and keep her in his grasp.

Amy was not the girl he remembered. Not exactly. Same girl, but older. He realized he was older in a much different way, yet Amy had changed in a surprising way as well. Connor understood that Amy was a healthy, fit woman with an obvious obsession with her work.

He continued to watch Amy think. She had not asked a single question during the time Connor had talked. If there had been anything to question about, Murphy had jumped in with a few more details to help explain any confusion.

But she had never appeared confused. Amy, during the whole story-time, had listened with her eyes staring at the pool table. She occasionally turned to Murphy and Connor – only when their story had focused on them for a bit: like when Connor told Amy about how Ivan the Russian had handcuffed him to the toilet in their apartment. Amy turned to stare at Connor. Or when Murphy had been put on his knees to face the Russian's gun. Amy turned to stare at Murphy.

And when the part about Rocco came up, Amy merely stared at her hands.

Connor's arm rested on the back of the couch. His hand was just inches away from Amy's head – he wanted to stroke her hair and wrap his arm around her shoulders.

But he held back. Connor knew the three of them just couldn't jump back into being friendly again – like eight years ago. Things were different. Murphy and Connor had their mission – and never, at any time, did their mission include her.

_If anything_, Connor thought, _we're doing this to keep her safe…_

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Rocco had been killed by Don Yakavetta.

Amy felt guilty. She had always scolded Connor and Murphy – mentally – about the court room shooting, but now she suddenly felt glad for it. But it was wrong. She thought it was still _all_ wrong.

She tried to picture it… Yakavetta approaching Rocco…Connor and Murphy screaming, begging… Rocco being shot…hitting the floor… telling them to never stop…

She closed her eyes.

And their father… Connor and Murphy's father had been the third, older man with them. The third Saint.

And they were much older now…

But they both looked good in her eyes. Amy had been stunned by Connor and Murphy's appearances. Their faces…their bodies…

It was shocking to her. The skin beneath their eyes was proof of their old age. They were still physically fit, however they had the bodies of thirty-five-year-old men – not the twenty-seven-year-olds Amy had remembered.

Amy embarrassed herself by picturing Murphy's body. She mentally picked him because he was the only MacManus brother Amy had seen _everything_ of…

They were no longer quirky, Irishmen in their late twenties; Connor and Murphy MacManus were men in their mid-thirties – almost forty – and they were wanted killers.

Amy took in a deep breath. Her shift in her seat on the couch made Murphy and Connor alert of her actions.

They readied themselves for her to say something…anything…

Amy finally said, "You do…_this…" _Amy turned to Connor, "because _God told you so_?"

"Aye," Connor nodded. "Granted us permission, if you will. '_Destroy all that which is evil'…_"

Amy turned to Murphy. He spoke softly, "_'So that which is good may flourish'_…"

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion. "I… I don't think I'll ever understand…_that_…"

"Look love, we're not lookin' for approval here," Connor reminded. "We just wanted to tell ya the truth. Finally. We've told ya everything. Everything about what happened here in Boston…"

Murphy: "In Ireland."

Connor: "We just want ta be straight wit' ya."

Amy nodded slowly. "Straight with me…" she repeated. "And…why couldn't you be straight with me…eight years ago?"

Murphy: "'Cause we thought it be best to protect ya." He rubbed his mouth on his wrist. "Didn't want to involve you with it."

Her eyes sank sadly. Amy looked at Murphy tenderly and tried to hold back more tears. The urge to cry more infuriated Amy. She stopped herself from crying, again.

Amy turned her gaze back to the pool table.

"So you told me now…" Amy questioned bitterly. "How did you know I wouldn't go to the cops, right now?"

"If you had wanted to tell the police, you would have done it by now," Connor grinned. "And if ya had run away screamin', we woulda had Romeo chase afta ya and tie ya up."

"No gag. We don't believe in gaggin' a woman," Murphy joked.

"Oh yeah, Romeo…" Amy thought aloud. (The new recruit was downstairs with Doc at the bar.) "I get how he got involved in this… but…" Amy looked at Murphy. "Rocco died. Aren't you afraid of getting another man killed?"

"Rocco didn't die in vain. And we didn't get him killed," Murphy said gently, trying to cover the harsh tone in his throat. "He made his decisions."

"Right, but he didn't have God's permission, now did he?" Amy thwarted. "You guys got the heavenly 'OK' but Romeo…and Rocco…" She shook her head angrily.

She stood up and hugged herself. Her body language was so stiff and harsh. Connor and Murphy remained in their places.

Amy laughed quietly to herself. "Even if I had gone to the police, you got special friends inside right? Three detectives?"

"More like the Stooges," Murphy laughed. "But we haven't gone for help or anythin' from them."

"Yet," Connor thought aloud. He and his brother stared at one another silently.

Amy noticed the ominous stare. "There's one thing you guys haven't told me…" She stared sternly at their faces. "Now that you're here…what do you plan on doing?"

Connor began to stand; Murphy slowly stood up from the couch.

"Do you really want to know love?" Connor asked.

Amy pressed her lips together and her eyes widened as she thought. "No," she said quickly. "Or at least…not right now."

"Good, because right now we don't have a fuckin' clue yet of what to do actually," Murphy added. He rubbed the back of his head nervously. "It's why we got Romeo. He's a bit more familiar with Boston-nowadays."

Connor approached Amy gently and rested a hand on her shoulder. He leaned in and whispered, "Listen love. It's been a long night. You need sleep."

"Work, right?" Murphy asked.

Amy nodded her head.

Connor looked at Amy, then Murphy, then went back to the young woman. "I'm gonna go downstairs and have Doc call ya a cab."

Amy: "I can walk-"

Connor: "Not wit' ya faintin' tonight. You're getting a ride."

The concerned twin left Amy and Murphy alone in the living room. Connor took a look back at the two before he trotted down the stairs.

Murphy bit his lip as he looked at Amy. Her eyes were frozen on him, suddenly, and Murphy took a step closer toward her.

"You alright, Amy?"

She blinked several times before she answered, "I think." Amy forced a smile. "I'm glad you're back…"

"But…" Murphy continued for her…

"It's just…" Amy allowed a small laugh to come out, "you're here…because you've been framed. A priest is dead and somewhere out there is a man who wants you here…" She shook her head. "I remember the men that drank at this bar every night… the men who watched me hit puberty…the men who I always pictured in my life…" She looked at Murphy sadly. "I remember the Murphy MacManus from eight years ago."

"Still here, love," Murphy whispered. He took a couple of steps toward Amy. Their faces were just inches apart and Amy could feel Murphy's breath on her cheek.

"I don't know what to do from here…" Amy asked. "You're back. But… probably not for long."

"Aye, we're not sure what will happen…" Murphy explained softly. "Once we're finished with this…"

"Go back to Ireland?"

"Maybe."

"Can I ask something personal…and probably ridiculous?" Amy asked with a shy grin.

Murphy relaxed his shoulders. "Ask anything."

Amy tilted her head to the side. "What were you thinking…when you saw me tonight…for the first time in eight years…"

The dark-haired MacManus brother smiled slyly and said, "What I really want to say…would be too inappropriate to say to a woman…" His eyes stared directly at the ring on Amy's finger. "Who is spoken for."

Amy looked down at her hand. She raised it in front of her chest and Murphy took her wrist into his grasp gently.

"Lucky man," Murphy noted. His eyes looked into Amy's. "Are ye happy?"

The woman looked up into pair of blue eyes. She looked into the older, familiar face with the same beauty mark. Amy recognized the small lips that had always been her favorite aspect of the man, physically. Her breath mingled with his in the air.

"Yes," Amy lied. Murphy knew immediately she wasn't telling the truth. Amy smiled – a fake smile – and shrugged: "It's all this work that's keeping me from making a definite answer."

"If you love the man, marry 'im," Murphy advised gently. "You do love the man, right?"

Amy took her wrist back. She hugged herself quietly and nodded.

"You do have the characteristics of a woman in love," Murphy added sarcastically.

Amy looked up sharply. "It's complicated."

"Isn't it always…"

Amy continued to stare into Murphy's face. She didn't want to admit it, but Amy enjoyed the closeness. During her time at university, Amy had daydreamed of what it would have been like if Murphy returned and found her…

Her dream had finally come true.

"I'm not the little girl you once knew, Murphy," Amy explained. She took a step away from the man. "I want to say how happy I am that you're here… and to explain my joy in the fact that I now know everything…"

"But…"

"But things change," Amy sighed. "You have. Connor has. I have." She allowed her arms to rest by her sides. "I don't know if I'll come back here. To…catch up…some more…I guess. I do have work to do and I can't jeopardize myself by visiting Boston's Most Wanted…"

"Amy-"

"However…" Amy added in quickly. "If there's time to spare…I'll call Doc first…and if the time is…appropriate…I'll stop by."

Murphy nodded slowly. He watched Amy retreat to the apartment door and stairs. Before she disappeared-

"Amy!" Murphy called.

She whirled around with her foot down on the next step.

Murphy: "When I saw you…I didn't see the little Amy Jensen I met when I first arrived at McGinty's…I saw the woman from eight years ago…the school-college-obsessed perfectionist…the prettiest girl I've ever-…the one that asked me to take her to see a dirty movie…" He smiled slowly. "I saw you."

Amy returned the smile. "I'm not sure that was me. Goodnight Murphy." She skipped down the stairs.

Murphy could hear her explain the same visiting-plan to Connor: "I'll come by when I'm not busy. And when you're not _busy_." He heard her say goodnight to Connor, Romeo, and Doc. The sound of McGinty's door closing told Murphy that she was gone.

His eyes were wide as Murphy stared blankly at the floor. His rear leaned against the pool table and his arms were crossed over his chest.

Connor ran up the stairs and found his brother remaining quiet and still.

He stuck his hands into his pockets and Connor approached Murphy slowly. Five feet away, Connor stared at Murphy questionably. He couldn't tell what was going on in his brother's mind...

"Good seein' her, aye?" Connor asked. "After all this time…after talkin' about her for eight years with Da in Ireland…felt good to see her."

"Aye," Murphy agreed quietly. "It's just…"

"What is it brother?"

Murphy looked up with a surprised expression on his face. "I didn't realize I had missed her so much."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: More to come! Promise!

REVIEWS APPRECIATED! Thanks everyone!


	17. Chapter 17 Dear Murphy

**Chapter Seventeen: Dear Murphy**

Lydia pounded at Amy's door at two o'clock in the afternoon. The secretary notified her exhausted, pale-faced boss of the concerned calls Lydia had received from Simon Ansell and Hank Jensen. Apparently Amy had turned her cell phone off – or had ignored all calls and messages – thus Lydia had been contacted out of worry. Simon hadn't heard from Amy in over a week and Hank was curious as to what Amy was up to.

At three o'clock, Amy sat at the suite's balcony. She was dressed in a pair of skinny jeans (what she called her most "casual" pair), a form-fitting dark-green sweater, and black flats. Her wavy hair blew against the wind and her eyes were frozen on the cell phone lying on the table. She continued to drink her honey-lemon tea slowly.

It had been Lydia's point that Amy contact Simon "ASAP" as to not worry him, ergo worry his father – their boss.

But Amy sat at on the balcony's furniture not worrying over the call.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She sat at her laptop in the living room. Amy leaned over toward the center table to grab her computer and rest it in her lap. Sitting Indian-style on the lush couch, Amy cracked her knuckles anxiously.

On the screen was a Microsoft Word document.

The screen read:

_Dear Murphy_

Amy stared at the screen sadly. She retyped:

_Dear Connor and Murphy_

Her eyes narrowed at the laptop. _Separate letters? Or just one letter addressed to both_, she thought.

She figured the best way to avoid any trouble was to tell the MacManus brothers her goodbye. Amy knew better: She had to keep her distance from them.

She backspaced; Amy decided to make two separate letters.

_Dear Murphy,_

_Words could never describe_

**Backspace…**

_Murphy,_

_I can't believe_

**Backspace…**

_I want you to know that I don't hate you. If anything I miss you. I'm not sure if you're still the same man I knew eight years ago. You've assured me that you're the same person, but a part of me can't accept that. _

**Backspace…**

Amy ran both hands through her hair. She tapped her fingers nervously against the keyboard. Her eyes glazed over the "_Murphy"_ on the screen.

"Fuck it," Amy told herself.

_Murphy,_

_I can never fully explain how much you hurt me. Connor too. You two were more than just friends. _

_More like my soul mates._

_Connor was the man I pictured always being there for me. My best friend. The man that shows up to every big event in my life. The man that's there for the little things. I always thought of us as "Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pizza Place" – or whatever that show was called. Just not the "Pizza Place" part. Or "Three Men and a Baby" – just with an additional woman, and lose the man, and the baby…_

_And I loved you._

_Remember when I told you that regardless of whom I was with, I would still be thinking of you? _

_I stuck with it._

_I'm with Simon. Simon loves me. Yet I can't wrap my finger around my feelings for him. In the beginning of our relationship we were quite happy. I was content. And he's asked me to marry him. And I don't know what the fuck to say._

_And then I'm forced to come back here…_

_To Southie. And…with my luck…you're here too._

_And I still lo_

**Backspace…**

All that was left on the screen was "_Murphy._"

Amy couldn't imagine starting a "_Dear Connor_" letter.

She began to erase everything…first the _"y"…_then the "_h"… "p"… "r"… "u"…_ Amy released a small sigh… "_M"…_

Her hands hovered over the laptop. Her fingers felt drawn to the keyboard.

_I still love you Murphy, _Amy typed. _Which is very stupid. Because you left. Not because of me. And you came back. Not because of me. Which probably means_

Amy paused as she stared at the computer screen bitterly.

_you never loved me. _

Her pinky felt annoyed with backspacing so much. Amy merely closed the screen of her laptop and placed it back onto the center table.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy ran around the area outside of the hotel. She wore black shorts and a long sleeve shirt – the attire wasn't enough to keep her warm, thus Amy ran harder and faster. Her heart was beating fast and she could feel the sweat drip down her body despite the cold weather.

_Arts for All…Murphy…Ansell-Aurora…Connor…Thompson & Falcon…Rocco…Simon…Murphy…Simon…Murphy…Connor…_

_Murphy…_

_Damn you, _Amy told herself. _Just run…keep running…think about work…the mergers…everything else except…_

_Murphy and Connor…_

Her body slammed into another person. Amy felt the other person's weight collide painfully into her chest. She spun into a half-circle before crashing into the pavement.

The man she had run into rubbed his arm as he slowly got up. The businessman (Amy guessed because he wore a blue suit and carried a briefcase) appeared to be surprised by what had happened. His mouth opened and Amy heard words come out, such as "You okay?" and "Can you stand?"

She continued to lie on the sidewalk. Her knee stung and Amy noticed the bleeding wound suddenly. As she slowly rose to her feet Amy felt the pain in her arms and legs. She stared at the businessman who continued to ask if she was okay.

Amy shook her head sadly. _Damn you._

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She walked through the hotel lobby zombie-like. Pale and victim to elbow and knee wounds, Amy ignored the inquiring glances of the hotel staff and guests. There were only a few people around but everyone seemed to remember the woman that had fainted the other day.

Amy sighed as she pressed the button for the elevator. A hotel staff member – a bellhop – appeared beside Amy as she waited for the metallic doors to open.

"Miss, are you alright?"

"Fine."

The bellhop motioned to the lobby. "We have a First-Aid kit."

"There's one in my room."

The elevator doors opened and Amy stepped inside. The bellhop grinned sheepishly and asked, "What happened ma'am?"

Amy looked up and smirked. "I fell."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She walked toward her suite with her head down and eyes half-closed. Amy's body ached and she deeply desired sleep. For the first time she looked forward to crashing into the too-comfortable hotel bed…

"Sir, I'm sorry-"

Amy heard Lydia's voice. Her attention focused on her secretary who seemed annoyed…

Lydia was talking with Romeo…

_What the hell…_Amy thought fearfully…

Romeo was there. Standing in front of her hotel room… He leaned against a large crate that looked to transport laundry…

"Ms. Jensen requested a staff member to come here and pick up some towels…" Romeo told Lydia. "And I…"

The Hispanic stopped when he noticed Amy.

Amy felt her throat go dry and her stomach churn.

"What's…" Amy began slowly.

Lydia had her hands placed on her rooms and her face revealed an obvious annoyance with Romeo.

"Amy, this gentleman says you requested someone to come by and pick up your towels…?" Lydia asked suspiciously. "I heard him knocking at your door for like ten minutes…"

Amy turned her head to Romeo. He was dressed in jeans and a white dress shirt; Romeo was obviously not wearing the usual hotel uniform.

His hair was pulled back into a thick ponytail and a fake grin was spread across Romeo's face.

Amy noticed Romeo's finger tap on the laundry crate…

"Oh…" Amy whispered. She turned to Lydia. "It's okay, Lydia. I did accumulate a lot of towels…I asked someone to come immediately and grab 'em-"

"He says he lost his keys so he couldn't get in?" Lydia questioned heatedly. She turned to Romeo and stared at him accusingly.

"I-It's like my first day miss," Romeo smiled. "Cut me some slack?"

"Lydia it's okay, I promise. The manager even told me that-" Amy stopped when she noticed the nametag on Romeo's shirt. The tag read: _Arthur._ "Arthur…Arthur would be the one to come up and get the towels. I requested it before I went for my run."

Lydia nodded slowly. She looked at Amy and suddenly noticed her boss' physical appearance. "Oh Amy, did you get hurt? Your knee is bleeding-"

"It's fine," Amy said quickly. "And I'm a bit tired. Not in the mood for dinner right now. You go on ahead, 'kay? In fact, Arthur here can come inside and show me where the First-Aid is."

"Yes ma'am," Romeo said happily.

The confused secretary nodded. "Okay," Lydia said gently. "Fine. But you get some food later, okay?"

"Gotcha," Amy said with a wink.

Romeo and Amy watched as Lydia stomped down the hallway.

"Umm, Ms. Jensen," Romeo whispered closely, "we need to get inside. Laundry's a bit _tight_ in here."

Amy's eyes went back to the laundry crate. Her eyes widened and Amy pulled her room-key out of her sneaker.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Romeo pushed the crate through the door. Amy slammed the door behind her and Romeo began to push aside a few towels and white T-shirts. To Amy's surprise, she watched Romeo toss the towels and shirts to the floor.

A thin wood panel was wedged into the crate. Romeo removed the thin wood piece and Amy gasped as she watched Connor and Murphy attempt to crawl out.

Connor was practically rolled into a ball and Murphy was hugging his knees to his chest.

They grumbled as they tried to squeeze out one at a time.

Murphy popped up first. He stretched his arms and leaned side to side. "For fuck's sake Rome, took ya forever."

"Sorry, the little woman gave me trouble," Romeo defended innocently. "Plus your friend Amy here wasn't here when we arrived."

Connor stood up with the same problem – he stretched and raised his arms in the air. "I need to do some yoga or some shit."

Amy gaped at the two men who climbed out of the crate. They were dressed in the usual jeans and familiar black pea coats.

"_What the hell are you doing here?"_ Amy demanded.

"Oh, we thought we'd drop in," Connor said.

"Had some time before we have to be some place…" Murphy explained. "We wanted to see ya."

Romeo scrambled to put the wood piece back into the crate. He tossed the towels and clothes back on top to hide the light brown surface.

"Alright," Romeo said, "I'll be back in two hours."

"Wait what?" Amy gasped.

Connor shrugged his shoulders. "C'mon Aimes, we just wanted to have a bit of time wit' ya. Two hours. That's all."

Murphy rubbed his own shoulder – apparently still sore from the small space of the laundry crate.

"If you don't want us here, we'll leave," Murphy explained gently. His eyes narrowed at Amy's knee.

"Okay fine," Amy snapped when she noticed Murphy eye her wounds. She looked at Romeo. "You're leaving?"

"Yes ma'am," Romeo sighed. His eyes darted to Connor and Murphy annoyingly. "_They _need me to take care of errands – because I get to be their little _bitch-"_

"Aye, watch your fuckin' mouth around the lady!" Connor shouted.

"Fine fine," Romeo said and rolled his eyes. He bowed his head to Amy's direction. "I'll be back for…more towels in a couple of hours."

Amy nodded in understanding. She watched Romeo back the crate up and exit her hotel suite.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor, Amy, and Murphy stared at one another in silence.

Amy rubbed her arms uncomfortably and said, "Well. I'm going to jump in the shower." She motioned for the couches. "Why don't you guys just hang around a bit. I won't be long."

"I'll see if I can find that First-Aid," Murphy called as he watched Amy go into the direction of her bedroom.

Amy didn't turn to stare or say anything back; she disappeared into her bedroom and closed the door.

Murphy turned to Connor and began to remove his peacoat. "This is a bad fuckin' idea, Con."

"Oh c'mon Murph," Connor spat, "it'll be a'right. Better here than at Doc's." He began to walk toward the couch. Connor tossed his coat over the back of the couch and relaxed into the large cushions. His eyes closed out of enjoyment.

Murphy stared around uncomfortably. The hotel was too large for his taste. It reminded him of the suite he and Connor had killed Petrova in.

"I'm going to find the First-Aid," Murphy told Connor as he made his way toward the kitchen-area.

Connor waved his hand at him and sat up on the couch. He reached happily for the remote on the center table and turned the TV on.

His eyes noticed the laptop sitting on the table.

"Huh," Connor said aloud, "been a while since I've seen a computer."

His interest took the best of him. Connor grabbed the laptop from the table and rested it on his legs.

He opened the screen; Connor hoped to play some sort of computer game or even search the Internet…

There was something already on the screen. Connor's eyes glazed over the screen – reading the Word Document.

_I still love you Murphy. Which is very stupid. Because you left. Not because of me. And you came back. Not because of me. Which probably means you never loved me. _

His eyes narrowed at the screen sadly. Connor's lips parted and bit his lower lip. He glanced behind him to see Murphy digging around the drawers in the kitchen and bar.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy sat on the edge of her bed wrapped in a towel. Her eyes stared at her bedroom door – the only thing separating her from them.

She tapped her foot nervously against the carpet. Her hands rubbed one another and Amy bit her lip.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

She came out of her bedroom fifteen minutes later. Amy felt strange dressed so casually – black yoga pants and a plain gray T-shirt.

Connor and Murphy were sitting on the couch flipping through channels.

"Oy, come over here love," Murphy called.

Amy obeyed and walked toward them. Connor motioned for Amy to sit on the edge of the center table.

"Now roll up that leg," Connor asked. "We gotta get a bandage on that knee."

"It's not that bad," Amy told them. "Bleeding stopped."

"Still need ta take care of that," Murphy reminded.

Amy looked at the two of them and sighed. She rolled up the pant-leg of her wounded knee. The bleeding had stopped but the wound was nasty-looking.

Murphy handed Connor the First-Aid.

Connor opened it and immediately pulled out a small tube of Neosporin and a large rectangular band-aid.

Amy watched Connor rub the cool gel over her knee. Murphy ripped apart the paper pieces of the bandage and had it ready.

Connor laughed. "Remember the time at the meat packing plant?"

Murphy smiled slowly. "Aye, Amy had to do some project. _Go to Work with a Friend Day_ or something."

Connor: "And you, Amy, were fuckin' around with Murphy on the balcony. Fell. Scraped your leg."

Murphy: "I made it a big scene – picked up Amy in my arms and started screamin'. Connor you were so pissed-"

"You sat me down in a chair…" Amy remembered. "Connor got the First-Aid and patched me up. You were so mad at Murphy."

"Playin' around a meat packin' place isn't safe," Connor reminded.

Amy nodded slowly. She looked up at the two men sitting in front of her. Connor was still staring at her knee while Murphy finished putting the bandage in its proper place.

When all was done, the three sat in silence again.

Amy quietly pulled her pant-leg down and placed her hands together.

"So…" Amy crooned.

"So…" Murphy and Connor said in unison.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Sorry for the loooong delay. I've been extremely busy. I'll try and update (BETTER!) chapters soon! Reviews much appreciated!


	18. Chapter 18 Two Hours

**Chapter Eighteen: Two Hours**

_Sixteen-year-old Amy Jensen sat at a booth in the back of McGinty's. It was an early night and only the customers there remained at the bar. The teenager felt alone and longed for some social activity, but her uncle – eyeing her from the bar – reminded her nonverbally that she had to finish her Spanish assignment._

_She twirled her hair anxiously between her fingers. The chewed-up pencil in her right hand tapped against the table. Her Spanish Four-Level textbook sat before her on a random page. The five-page paper was only half-way done. The assignment's topic was Amy's choice of career after high school (obviously, the paper had to be written entirely in Spanish)._

_Amy had done similar papers in Spanish Three, however her new teacher was pickier about grammar and structure. Sentences couldn't just be translated from "My name is…" and "I like this…" etc._

_The Coke Doc had given her was flat. She wanted to excuse herself and get a fresh drink but it would only make Doc badger her into completing the assignment._

_Her own handwriting made her eyes hurt. She had a process when writing papers: write out the paper first, make changes, review rough draft, then type essay._

_All Amy wanted to do was to join in on the conversation at the bar._

_Rocco was in the middle of telling a joke. Amy tried not to listen – she tried to regain focus – but her eyes went to the man who had the attention of the whole room._

"'_I think you're my wife'…"Rocco finished the joke. Everyone laughed. Amy too. _

_Doc noticed his niece's stare and yelled from the bar: "Aye! Get back ta work missy! Or you go back upstairs!"_

_Amy waved her pencil in the air. "I'm working on it!"_

_She mocked Doc's lecturing quietly to herself. Her eyes went back to the notebook paper scattered in front of her._

_Her peripherals warned her that people were approaching; Amy looked up and saw Connor and Murphy walking toward her._

"_Doc doesn't want me to get distracted," Amy whined._

"_That's why we're here," Connor said as he slid into the seat beside Amy._

_Murphy sat on the opposite side of the booth. He had brought over his Guinness and placed the glass of dark ale in front of him._

"_Aye, so what's the problem?" Murphy asked._

"_I just…" Amy sighed. She couldn't help but lose focus – again – and her eyes looked over Murphy and Connor's tattoos. "I want tattoos…" Amy thought aloud._

"_Atención (Pay attention)," Connor said, "__le ayudaremos (we will help you)."_

_Murphy nodded and smiled. "__¿Con qué hacen usted necesitan ayuda? (What do you need help with?)"_

_Amy's eyes rolled upward as she thought. "__La asignación no es difícil. No puedo pensar (The assignment is not difficult. I cannot think.)"_

"_Su español es bueno (Your Spanish is good)," Murphy commented._

"_Il mio italiano è migliore (My Italian is better)," Amy smirked as she spoke Italian._

"_Français? (French?)" Connor asked (in French)._

"_Je suis meilleur… (I am better…)" Amy thought (in French)._

"_Deutsch (German),"Murphy inquired (in German)._

_Amy shrugged. "Ich erlerne. Ich habe gute lehrer (I am learning. I have good teachers.)" She smiled at Connor and Murphy. The two men laughed and Connor patted Amy on the shoulder proudly._

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy sat in between Connor and Murphy on the couch. The three laughed as they reminisced. Murphy bit into his slice of pizza despite the laughter still erupting from his throat. He allowed the slice to dangle between his teeth as he rolled up the sleeves of his gray sweater. Connor took a swig from his beer and held it into the air in Amy's direction; he cheered to her and continued to drink.

"Parlate italiano per il vostro lavoro? (You speak Italian for your work?)" Murphy asked in Italian.

"Sì. Sto provando ad imparare più. Sto prendendo le lezioni giapponesi e russe. Spero di andare in Italia presto. Potrei ottenere trasmesso là per lavoro. In avvenire. (Yes. I am trying to learn more. I am taking Japanese and Russian lessons. I hope to go to Italy soon. I might get sent there for work. In the future.)" Amy explained. She grabbed another slice of pizza from the second box on the center table. "Possono trasmetterli in Francia presto. L'Egitto anche. Se faccio bene, dovrò viaggiare mólto. (They may send me to France soon. Egypt too. If I do well, I will have to travel a lot.)"

Connor gave a small smile and said, "It' s buona abbiamo la birra e pizza. Ed otto anni da parlare di. Ero impaurito, Amy, questo sarei difficile. (It's good we have beer and pizza. And eight years to talk about. I was afraid, Amy, this would be difficult.)"

"È difficile (It's difficult)," Amy commented. She swallowed her bite of pizza. "It's…" Amy switched back to English. "We missed out…a lot… in each others' lives. I had always pictured you guys at my graduations…high school and college…and…" Amy shrugged. "It's still strange to sit here. To even look at you guys…" Amy looked from Connor to Murphy. "But pizza and beer helps."

Connor leaned back into the lush cushion of the couch. "I'm sorry about how it all turned out, love." He thought for a moment and his face lit up. Connor rose from his position and held his hand out to Amy. The woman stared confused at the motion. The smile on the man's face grew wider. "C'mon. Just you and me out on the balcony. I'd like some one-on-one time."

Amy gulped. She had felt awkward enough with the two of them in the room – splitting her time with the twins didn't seem ideal. However Amy took a chance…

She took his hand and stared back at Murphy. "Be right back."

"And don't eat all the fuckin' pizza," Connor called over his shoulder. He had his arm wrapped around Amy's shoulder. The twin turned when Murphy tossed both his and Connor's pea coats to Connor.

"I don't want Amy freezin'," Murphy explained.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor and Amy sat on the balcony furniture. A cigarette was lit in Connor's hand and Amy tugged at Murphy's coat tighter around her. She recognized Murphy's smell. Amy knew Connor and Murphy seemed to always carry the scent of beer and cigarettes with them – but Murphy's smell was more distinct to her.

Amy noticed Murphy watching TV through the glass balcony doors.

"What are you guys up to?" Amy asked.

"What do you mean?" Connor questioned. "We just wanted to spend time wit' ya."

"No," Amy said slowly. She ran a hand through her hair nervously. "You guys have some sort of _appointment_ later?"

Connor nodded. "We're meetin' up wit' Rome's uncle. He apparently knows his shit. He can…help us out…"

Amy stuck her hands into the pockets of Murphy's jacket. "I still can't believe I'm doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Sitting here…" Amy laughed sarcastically. "Talking with some old friends… men who are wanted by the entire nation…" She shook her head. "I should have kicked you guys out an hour ago…but I can't help it."

"Li amate (You love us)," Connor spoke in Italian. "Siamo stati buoni amici per molti anni. (We have been good friends for many years.)" He leaned over in his chair to rest his hand on Amy's arm. The Irishman smiled warmly at the woman who looked like she was fighting years (again). "Amy, sei speciale…(Amy, you're special…)"

Amy felt Connor's hand squeeze her arm affectionately.

"So c'mon love," Connor coaxed (in English). "I want to hear more about this fella you have back in Illinois."

"Ah yes…" Amy laughed. She relaxed into her chair and cocked her head to the side. "My fella…"

"Doc says the man's asked you to be his wife," Connor asked.

"He has." Amy nodded slowly and stared down at the ring on her hand. "Simon's a good man." She looked up to accept Connor's concerned glare. "He loves me. I love him. We're in the same business and we… we're a good match."

"But…" Connor asked gently, "you haven't said yes?"

"And I haven't said no…" Amy defended. "I was just more concerned with work. He…took me by surprise."

"Now…I've asked you about this guy…and you haven't revealed much about him."

Amy: "He's a good man-"

Connor: "Yea…but what's he like? Would I like him?"

Amy: "You'd like him…you wouldn't necessarily be best friends. Simon has a thing against people who kill."

Connor: "If I met him at a bar-"

Amy: "He doesn't drink."

Connor: "Well fuck 'im."

Amy: "He's smart. Good businessman. Good ethics. I like how his mind works…"

Connor: "Wow."

Amy: "What?"

Connor: "He just sounds…wonderful…"

Amy: "He is."

Connor: "Yea…but you just don't seem excited about this guy. When you talk about him…it's like you're putting in a good word for him or somethin'. Now c'mon…why do you love him?"

Amy: "I just do Connor."

Connor: "Oh c'mon-"

Amy rose from her chair and began to pace in front of Connor. "Enough with the third degree," she argued. "Simon's a good man – a good match for me. It would be unwise not to accept his offer. We…" Her own eyes betrayed her… Amy found herself staring at Murphy through the glass… She shook her head angrily and finished, "…Simon and I are_ perfect_ for each other."

"If you say so."

"What about you?"

"No special interest in my life, dear."

"No…" Amy laughed. "Sorry. I didn't mean if you had a 'fella' or not…I meant…your dad." She slowly sat back down in her chair. "What's _he_ like?"

A small smile appeared on Connor's face. "He's our father." The MacManus twin nodded slowly. "He makes sense to be our da'. Besides the 'work' he's done…you'd like him. He's a wonderful speaker…great story-teller. When Murph and I first had the chance to converse with him…we could sit for hours listenin' to him talk." Connor stared at Amy. "The man knows his history. I know you love history. He knows art, too. Sometimes he just likes to sit outside and stare at the world. He's a very religious man. Thanks God every day for the life he has, for his sons, and for the wind and trees… and ammo." Connor laughed. "He's a man who wants to make a difference."

"Following in your father's footsteps?" Amy asked quietly.

"Murphy and I didn't follow him," Connor explained. "However we did find him. We made our choices. We took hold of our destinies. We accepted it. We made a choice…we're all on our own separate paths. Sometimes paths can parallel one another or cross over…"

"I don't believe in that," Amy added. "We all have our own lives to live. I don't think other lives _collide_ with one another…and if they do…it's not destiny-"

"Oh, Amy…" Connor sighed with disappointment in his voice.

"Connor…" Amy crooned. "God didn't pick you for this life…like you said…_you_ made the choices. Rocco made his choice. Your father made a choice. And now you're here – looking for vengeance or justice – whatever that bullshit is."

"It's real Amy," Connor snapped. He leaned forward in his chair with his hands in front of him. "We all bring something into this world. Others take things away…we ensure that motherfuckers don't take any more out of this world-"

The phone on the table rang.

Amy and Connor sat quietly as the cell phone vibrated and beeped simultaneously.

"Ya goin' ta answer that?" Connor asked.

Her eyes narrowed at the small, blue-lit screen.

"It's Simon…" Amy whispered breathlessly.

"Well then…" Connor muttered bitterly. He stood up and began his way to enter the hotel suite. Turning around, Connor gave Amy a small smile and said, "Talk to the man."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy watched Connor close the glass doors behind him. She leaned over in her chair.

Simon was calling for the third time in a row…

She picked the phone up.

Amy: "Simon."

Simon: "Oh baby, thank god. Where the hell have you been?"

Amy: "Working." She sighed. "I've been terribly busy. My first meeting with Thompson & Falcon didn't go as well as I had hoped… I'm preparing to meet up with them again-"

Simon: "I understand work is hectic, but it's been a week since I've heard from you…"

Amy: "I'm fine…"

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Connor sank into the couch beside Murphy.

"What are you playing at?" Murphy asked accusingly. He motioned for the balcony. "I saw the two of ya arguin'."

"Not arguin'. Jus' talkin'," Connor replied. "I wish I could explain all this shit to her – for her to understand – but she's bein' too hard-headed."

Murphy slapped Connor's head. "Oy, fuck you! Leave da girl alone. We shouldn't even fuckin' be here. This was such a stupid idea, Con. I can't believe I fuckin' listened to ya-"

"We need time with her," Connor barked. He pointed at Amy from the living room. "That girl is so lost she can't find her own way home. She's not even sure where home fuckin' is. I mean…look at her! With a man she don't give a shit about. Lost touch with her own fuckin' uncle – the man who raised her. And us…we used to be so fuckin' close and now she can't stand to be around us."

The dark-haired twin shook his head and laughed. "What'd you expect? Happy hugs and tears? We got that already. It's done. This is fuckin' reality. Remember? We used to try and protect her from it and now you're just trying to drag her into dis."

Connor stared at Amy again. "Ya know she's in love wit' ya."

Murphy: "Fuck you."

Connor: "Despite the obvious proof – it's clear as fuckin' crystal. Breaks my heart to watch her…she wants to cry when she looks at ya. And at the same time…she wants to be in your arms. And don't fuckin' argue wit' me… it's the same in reverse…you could never stop talkin' about her in Ireland-"

Murphy: "You talked about her too! You missed her just as much as I did-"

Connor: "In a sense. Because of you Da knows so much about Amy, that he practically knows da girl."

Murphy: "What are you tryin' ta do? You almost beat my ass when I told you I slept wit' her. Now you're trying to push us together?"

Connor: "You're both older now."

Murphy: "Things are a bit fuckin' different, don't ya t'ink? For example: we're not exactly the most popular. Plus, she's got a FUCKIN' LIFE! She's got a good life; successful career, good future-fuckin'-husband – she's got everything she should have."

Connor: "Da loved our mother, Murphy." He leaned in close to his brother. "Noah MacManus married a young Annabelle Wallace because he loved her. He didn't think of her as a waste of time or as a speed bump in his road. He loved her. Despite the _business_, he married her and had us."

Murphy: "Ya forget he left her too."

Connor: "I doubt Ma stopped lovin' him. 'Course she'd give him a good slappin' around if Da ever showed his face… but that's not the point. If there's anything that I've learned from Da…it's that destiny is a _real_ thing."

Murphy: "What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

Connor: "I've got a feelin'. You and Amy need ta talk about what happened eight years ago. C'mon Murphy…after eight fuckin' years we come back to this place. We're on a mission. And eight years later… Amy returns to the home she was kicked out of…we're all here at the same time…we have our duties…but destiny's callin' to us brother."

Murphy shook his head and scoffed, "You're such a dumbass."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy: "I promise I'll call tomorrow."

Simon: "Keep me updated. And I miss you, darling. Please don't stress."

Amy: "I'll try. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Simon: "I love and miss you baby."

Amy: "Miss you too."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Amy walked back inside with a sullen expression. The twins looked up from the couch and stared with concerned glances.

"Ye alright, Amy?" Connor asked.

The woman nodded and sat in the couch opposite Connor and Murphy.

"Yeah." Amy smiled. "What were you guys talkin' about?"

Connor and Murphy stared at one another.

Murphy: "Guns."

Connor: "Knives."

Amy: "Ah yes. Man things."

Connor shrugged with a smile. "Aye, there's gotta be time to talk about it." He looked at Murphy then back at Amy. "I'm gonna go have another smoke outside." Connor stood up and slapped Murphy's leg. "The two of ya catch up."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Murphy and Amy remained in their own seats opposite one another. Amy had her hands tucked in between her knees and her posture was up-right-perfect. Murphy had his arms crossed in his lap and his fingertips tapped against each other.

Connor was outside smoking his third cigarette.

Amy looked at Murphy and asked, "So Romeo's coming in about twenty minutes."

Murphy nodded. "Aye."

Amy nodded. "He seems…dependable."

Murphy: "I sure hope so." He smiled.

Amy couldn't resist but trace his smile with her eyes. It was a gesture she was familiar with – something she had missed, too.

Murphy: "So that was your man on the phone, earlier?"

Amy: "Yes. Simon was checkin' in."

Murphy: "Good."

Amy: "Yeah…"

Murphy: "Ya goin' ta bring him here?"

Amy stared at Murphy oddly. "What?"

The man leaned forward on the couch and asked, "I suspect you'll bring him home soon. Introduce him to Doc. Show him da bar…"

Her shoulders tensed up and Amy laughed jokingly. "I don't think he has much of an interest of Southie."

Murphy: "You're from Southie."

Amy: "Neither of us are really concerned with the past. It's all about 'moving forward' and 'gaining success'…"

Murphy: "His motto?"

Amy: "Ours."

Murphy: "Doesn't sound like you."

The young woman paused and stared at the floor. Her head rose to stare at Murphy and Amy said, "You speak as if you know who I am."

"Of course I do," Murphy whispered. He stood from the couch and walked around the center table. Murphy noticed Amy's body move in a small, but alarmed gesture. He took a seat next to her; their legs and opposite knees touched.

His hand rested on her wrist. The feeling of their skin making contact made Amy feel suddenly cold. Chills ran through her spin and her eyes were too scared to stare up at Murphy. Her eyes were glued to his knees. _Just keep focus…_Amy told herself. But her body could feel him… Without looking, Amy knew that Murphy's sweater was thin and form-fitting around his abdomen; despite his age, Murphy's body was still in shape…and it made Amy's mind wander back eight years ago…

His jeans were old. Aged. Like him. Amy knew those jeans had probably been through a lot. Her eyes turned away from the jeans when she thought – for a split second – she noticed an old blood stain near the heel of his boot.

Murphy's breathing made contact with Amy's arm…

She could feel his eyes, nose, and lips pointed in her direction…

The proximity with Murphy made Amy's chest ache. She wanted to slip away and run outside. Run anywhere…

"I know you, Amy…" Murphy whispered sweetly. "I know where you come from. And I know who you are."

She pointed her chin – her whole face – away from Murphy. Not meeting his gaze, Amy muttered, "Maybe…maybe I just feel like I don't know you anymore."

"I know Connor overwhelmed you with his big ol' mighty speech," Murphy laughed quietly. "You know how he can be… he just wants you to understand. Gain perspective. Maybe even…" He paused and licked his lips. "Trust us, again."

Amy looked back at Murphy. She tried to smile but her face failed her. "I'm _scared_ for you. For Connor. Even for your dad…" She laughed. "Romeo too. This is _dangerous_ and I just wish you'd _stop_…"

"We can't stop love," Murphy replied sadly. "We promised we would never stop…" His mind lingered on Murphy's last memory with Rocco…

Her hand slowly enclosed with Murphy's. He looked down and found Amy was holding his hand in hers – she placed her other hand on top of Murphy's free hand.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you…" Murphy said quietly. He met Amy's wide-eyed stare. "A day didn't go by that I didn't think 'bout ya. And I thank God that everything turned out well. I know your life wasn't easy…I know you had a tough time…hell…you may still be struggling. But you're okay. Safe. Alive. Maybe happy?" Murphy slipped his hand out of Amy's to touch her cheek. "That's all I ever wanted for ya."

Amy felt Murphy's thumb stroke the area beneath her eye. His other fingertips played with her hair…

"Murphy…" Amy said slowly. "What _I _wanted was-"

There was a knock at the door. Amy's heart immediately screamed (metaphorically, speaking): _"So close! So close!"_

Amy looked up and stared back at Murphy. "It's Romeo." She stood up from the couch – her movement made Murphy's hands fall to his side as he lost his touch of her.

As Amy walked to the door, Murphy motioned for Connor to come back inside.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Romeo had his hands on his waist impatiently. The Mexican – as Connor and Murphy called him – waited as the twins hugged Amy.

Connor had his arms around her waist. When the two pulled away, Connor kissed Amy's forehead and touched her chin. "We be seein' ya soon?"

"Yeah. Maybe," Amy nodded.

Connor was the first to take his place in the empty crate.

Murphy stood in front of Amy and smiled shyly. He leaned down and kissed Amy on the area beside her mouth… The corners of their lips touched and Amy moved back out of surprise. Murphy nodded quietly and asked, "Tonight? Might I come back?"

Amy thought for a moment.

"Tomorrow…tomorrow would be better."

Murphy looked back at Romeo and Connor. "How about tomorrow…midnight? Just ta be safe?"

"Midnight it is…" Amy grinned.

Murphy accepted the small smile full heartedly. He bowed his head respectively and climbed into the crate with his brother.

"Okay, c'mon ya dirty towels," Romeo whined. "Get in place. We need ta get out of here." With Amy's help, Romeo and the woman placed the wooden piece on top of Connor and Murphy. Amy finished the job by tossing the towels back on top.

"Thank you Romeo," Amy smiled, "for all your help."

"Anythin' for the pretty lady," Romeo winked. "Maybe I'll buy ya a drink sometime-"

"Shut it Rome!" Connor's voice barked from the crate.

"Stay…away…from…the…girl…" Murphy's voice threatened.

Romeo nodded. "Alright alright." He waved at Amy. "See ya."

Amy opened the door open and watched Romeo push the crate down the hall. She watched as Romeo playfully crashed the crate into the walls a couple of times. Amy laughed.

When the newest addition to the "Saints" disappeared around the corner, Amy placed her hand over her heart.

"Be careful…" She said aloud. Amy realized she wasn't sure if she was talking to anyone…or if anyone was listening.

Amy stepped back inside the suite. She leaned against the door and sank to the floor. Her knees were pressed tightly against her chest and Amy ran a nervous hand through her hair. Amy's forehead touched her knee and the girl whispered "Destiny?" to the air.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Hope to update soon! Trying to get back into the swing of things! REVIEWS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED! Thanks again everyone!


	19. To My Readers: Sorry!

To my readers:

Many apologies!

I am sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm getting closer to the end of this semester and, of course, professors become a bit more _gung ho_ about getting exams and final papers done with (I'm an English major – so there's a lot of reading/writing involved so I'm swamped with my studies). Work has also taken up a lot of time.

Hopefully, before May, I will be updating again.

I wanted to share some exciting stuff with you guys – on St. Patty's Day…

I was in BOSTON with the cast/crew of THE BOONDOCK SAINTS.

YES! I met: Troy Duffy, NORMAN REEDUS, Rocco, Bob Marley, and Daniel DeSanto (who was in the sequel).

It was an amazing night – the BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE.

After meeting and talking with Norman (and stealing a bunch of hugs and kisses) – I definitely cannot wait to continue writing. Now that I've met the man that plays Murphy MacManus – I feel like I can better my descriptions about characters, etc.

Norman is a wonderful man! They are all sweet men! Everyone was happy to take pictures and talk with their fans. Over the course of the evening, I probably talked with Norman over ten different times (and even spent the majority of my night hanging around him).

I may set up some sort of site specifically to share with all of you the pictures from the evening.

Anywhoo – SORRY again for not updating and for being MIA. I am still here and am glad to see the reviews and views of the story going up.

Love you all and thanks again for all the wonderful comments.

-DeadlyxNightshade


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